


(Dis)Aster Ever After

by Novaviis



Series: Watercolour [26]
Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Action, Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Battle Couple, Coping, Dissociation, Domestic Fluff, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Heroes & Heroines, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Recovery, Self Confidence Issues, Speed Force, Wally West is The Flash, implied artemis crock/zatanna zatara, spaghetti monsters are more trouble than you'd think, wally's return
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-19
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-04-04 21:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14028630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novaviis/pseuds/Novaviis
Summary: "He hated this – in case that wasn't obvious already. Wally had gotten used to watching from the sidelines since he left the life. It'd never been easy, but his early retirement had been out of his hands. It had been what he needed at the time. No matter how much time had passed though, Wally couldn't stand sitting here and watching as his friends risked everything to save innocent lives. He hated not being able to do anything.And, as much as he loathed to say... he missed the rush of it. He missed the exhilaration, the adrenaline, that warmth in his chest telling him he did something truly worthwhile."Eight months after escaping from the Speed Force, Wally is finally ready to dive back into the Hero Life. However, it isn't be as easy as he might have hoped. In the aftermath of his return, Wally struggles with controlling his powers, his trauma, and his own confidence.





	1. Used To Be Somebody

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are, kids! Multi-chapter fic #3. I'm so excited for this one, it'll be a rollercoaster, but I believe that it will be a real feel good story once we're finished. I'm not sold on the three chapters I've got the work set to right now, I might go for four instead, but we'll see. Without further ado, enjoy!

 

There's this phrase in running called “hitting the wall”. Wally remembered his mom talking about it when he was a kid. His grandma was diagnosed with cancer, and his mom started running in those charity marathons to raise money and awareness and all that. This was long before his Kid Flash days, but the memory of watching her plop down at the kitchen table after training stayed with him. She'd been wearing shorts and a damp tshirt, with her hair pushed back in a headband, and smelled kinda like sweat and mowed grass. He had been sitting at the table, struggling to focus on his homework when all he had wanted to do was go outside and play in the streets with his friends. It'd been the middle of Spring. Wally remembered just about everything about that crisp afternoon.

After watching her guzzle down a water bottle, he'd asked how her run went. She had told him that it went fine until she hit the wall. When he had only looked at her in confusion, she had laughed, out of breath, and explained.

Hitting the wall is a stage in running when the body's glycogen levels, the carbohydrate stored in muscle fibers and the liver, are completely depleted. The exhaustion starts to get to you, and you feel like you physically can't go on. It's a physiological thing, like your brain is literally starting to shut down, trying to stop you from going any further. The thing is, it's not true. Glycogen is just one form of energy, and the body isn't actually as exhausted as the runner thinks it is. So, you hit the wall, and you struggle to keep going until you hit a second wave.

But hitting the wall fucking sucks, and you don't always make it past it.

Wally gritted his teeth as he started to feel the bone deep exhaustion settle in. His legs were getting heavier with every step, his entire body trembling with residual energy that he couldn't quite contain. The pain was electric, lashing out from within his core – like he was running around that chrysalis in the middle of the Arctic all over again. It was too much.

As Wally slowed down, the whir of colours and shapes seeming to spin around him still and cleared into the stadium sized race track within Star Labs' facilities. He skidded to a stop, stumbling on his feet until he finally crashed down onto his hands and knees in a panting heap. There was hitting the wall, and then there was hitting the wall at a few MPH shy of the speed of sound.

Copper red hair plastered to his forehead, dripping with sweat in his eyes, Wally stared down at his hands on the rubbery asphalt and clenched them into fists. He'd been running these tests with Star ever since he had returned from the Speed Force, about once a month. It'd been eight months. He'd even started doing smaller tests once he started his internship with the lab. They were still no closer to figuring out how the Speed Force had changed him.

A solid hand came to rest on his back. Someone knelt down beside him, and a water bottle was suddenly being pushed in front of him. Wally sat back and looked up to find Dick staring at him from behind his Nightwing mask.

“You good?” he asked as he insistently put the water bottle in Wally's hand.

Wally twisted the cap off and downed half the bottle in one go, water dribbling down his chin. When he finally felt like his throat was on fire, he pulled the bottle away with a gasp. He took a moment to catch his breath before nodding at his partner. He couldn't quite will his voice to work just yet.

Dick nodded in return, taking his silent gratitude with a private smile. Giving Wally a quick pat on the back, Dick pushed up to his feet and looked down at the stop watch in his other hand. He frowned down at the device.

Across the room, a group of men and women in pristine white lab coats convened around a table full of monitors and hard drives. An array of other instruments, ranging from cameras to what looked like a modified satellite dish were scattered around the table. Finally, an older man with a well groomed beard and graying hair looked back at the two young men and waved them over.

Dick looked back down at Wally and offered his hand. Wally, although less than enthusiastic about getting up, took Dick's hand and hauled himself to his feet. He stumbled and swayed, legs feeling a little closer to jello than actual bone. Dick reached out with a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

“Easy,” Dick cautioned as Wally righted himself.

Taking another swing from the water bottle, Wally wiped his mouth with his forearm and shot his partner a grin. “I'm golden,” he attempted a grin. “C'mon.”

Once certain that Wally wasn't going to go horizontal any time soon, the two of them made their way over to the table. Wally had been given a suit to run in, a similar material to his old Kid Flash uniform, off white with blue bands around his joints to help the cameras and sensors track his movements. Kinda reminded him of the solar suit that Conner had been wearing when they found him. Fitting, he supposed, considering he was starting to feel more and more like a science project.

“Well, Docs,” Wally began, “what's the verdict?”

Dr. Ramsay gave Wally a long-suffering look under a low brow. The young man, in his eyes, was a brilliant mind, and a dedicated intern, but his attitude was generally unprofessional. Wally only shrugged at the look. Dr. Ramsay sighed. He turned the central monitor around so they could see. “So far as we can tell, the cellular degeneration that caused your powers to wane and corrupt has ceased,” he said.

Wally groaned. “Yeah, I know. We figured that out last month- ow!” he winced, and glared at his partner, who'd pointedly elbowed him in the side.

“That's good news,” Dick said, peeling his own glare away from his partner's, “but his time today was worse than the last few sessions.” Dick handed the scientist the stop watch. “Why is he not lasting as long if the cellular degeneration has stopped?”

“Well, that's the big question, isn't it?” Dr. Lee, the head scientist at this Star Lab location, stepped up. She was almost comically short in comparison to Dick and Wally. Tucking her touch pad under her arm, she crossed to the other side of the table to point out a few pieces of data flying across the screen. “Not only has Wally's cellular degeneration haulted, it's begun to reverse the damage done to his body pre-Speed Force,” she explained.

On the monitor, three videos played side by side. One the left was a video taken years ago, when Wally had first become Kid Flash. He couldn't have been more than 13 at the time, grinning in the video as he ran. The high speed cameras had pasted together millions of frames into one cohesive loop of him running in place. Next to it, was the footage taken before Wally had retired, when he'd been going to Star to figure out what was wrong with him. It was slower in comparison, Wally's face set in determination even as he struggled to keep up. Finally the video on the right was the footage taken today. The statistics flashing beneath each video showed evidence of what the scientists had been talking about. All of the damage shown in the middle video had stabilized and reversed, nearly reaching the same levels in the first loop of footage.

The unsettling part, though, was the fact that Wally was clearly in pain. His run time was short today, and he hadn't been able to do as many laps as he could in the past. Things weren't adding up.

Wally's brows pulled together as he scanned over the footage and absorbed all of the data. He glanced beside him to find Dick staring at the screen as well, looking like he was just trying to make sense of even one number. Dick was a techie, not a physicist, but he'd been trying to pick up on as much as he could ever since these tests started.

“This is a good thing, obviously,” Dr. Lee explained. “Something within the Speed Force caused your powers to stabilize. However, we cannot account for why you are still not up to your previous speeds, and more importantly, why you are still being attacked by your own powers. We still understand very little about the Speed Force itself, even with Barry's contributions to our research.”

Wally sighed. Standing up straight again, he pushed his fingers back through his hair. “So, this means...” he trailed off, hoping to get a definitive answer to all of this. When he was met with only Dr. Lee's arched brow, he deflated. “More tests. Got it.”

Dr. Lee patted the intern on the shoulder. “We'll schedule the next test when you come in on Monday. You're finished your last lab report?”

Wally cringed. “Absolutely?”

Dr. Lee shook her head. “By Monday, Wally,” she said as she looked to Dick. “Keep him out of trouble, will you?”

Dick smiled warmly at the woman. “I can try,” he laughed.

Finally dismissed for the day, Dick and Wally made their way out of the stadium and into the sterile white halls leading deeper into the facilities of Star Labs. Wally stretched his arms behind his back, trying to shaking off the bone deep weariness he still felt after that disaster of a test run. Finishing off the last of his water, he tossed the bottle into a nearby recycling bin. He threw his arms up in victory when he landed it inside. Dick only chuckled and rolled his eyes.

Wally grinned over at him. “I'm thinking Krispy Kreme on the way home. Grab some coffee and a couple dozen donuts. What say you?”

The corner of Dick's mouth tugged up in a bare smirk. “Or, y'know, we could go to a real cafe and get donuts that weren't made on a conveyor belt.”

Wally made an honestly shocked by the very notion. “Yeah, but _Krispy Kreme_.”

Dick nudged him with his shoulder. “You make a convincing argument. Can't top perfection,” he shrugged. “We've got the whole day off. It's been a while since I kicked your ass in Mario Kart. I think donuts would fit in pretty well.”

Wally arched a brow. “You know, we've been eating junk food and playing video games for over ten years,” debatable, whether they included Wally's absence but he didn't need to bring that up. “You think it's time we got a new hobby?”

“Like I said,” Dick said as he stopped Wally in the middle of the hall with a hand on his bicep. He leaned in for a sweet kiss, smiling against his lips. “Can't top perfection.”

Wally laughed into Dick's mouth as his arm circled the vigilante's waist. “You make a convincing argument, Boy Wonder.”

Footsteps coming up the hall way forced them to, regrettably, part. Dr. Ramsay didn't make eye contact as he passed the young men, but he did scoff when Wally shot him a two fingered salute. The moment he disappeared around the corner, the redhead dissolved into laughter. “I think the old stiff is warming up to me.”

Dick pushed away, messing his fingers through Wally's hair. “You're going to force the man into an early retirement,” he laughed, despite his best efforts to stay quiet. "Oh, before I forget, Raquel's inviting everyone over to her place in Chicago Monday night for drinks and board games. I figured we could go after we get off work, take the Zeta Tu-"

"Can't," Wally replied quickly. "I can't. I'm gonna be working late Monday night. You go ahead, though." 

Although he didn't seem entirely convinced, Dick let it go. "Alright," he shrugged. With one more peck on the lips for good measure, Dick nudged Wally further down the hall. “Hit the showers, _Flash Boy,”_ he teased as he guided him toward the locker room.

Giving Dick the same two fingered salute just to get on his nerves, Wally nonetheless obeyed and headed into the locker room to clean off. Gratefully, too. He felt closer to a walking grease soaked sponge than a human being at the moment, and the cool stream of water from the shower was numbing the lingering ache left in his muscles.

He didn't take Dr. Ramsay's dismissal of him too seriously. It wasn't anything to do with him and Dick making out in the middle of his laboratory (it would be pretty awkward to explain to the man's husband). Wally was just the overly enthusiastic intern. Ramsay had been working with Star for over a decade, had even worked with Barry at the lab's sister location in Central. The handful of scientists working with him on his speed problem knew of his identity, even knew Dick's. They could be trusted. Didn't mean they were all overly fond of him though.

Wally finished up his shower, dried off, and got changed into a pair of jeans, a white tee, and a grey button down shirt. He came out of the locker room with a dufflebag strung over his shoulder, and his hair still damp. Dick was waiting in the hall, leaning against the wall by the door, distracted by something on his holocomp.

Wally grinned and draped his arm around the vigilante's shoulder. “Hey hot stuff, come here often?”

Dick took a moment to even noticed that Wally was there, looking up in surprise when he felt the arm on his shoulder. His eyes shot up to his partner's. “Oh- sorry, babe.”

Wally frowned. “That line's always a guaranteed eye roll. What's up?”

Dick's attention flitted back down to the holographic screen projected from his glove. “Some monster was just spotted heading toward San Diego. Kaldur's requesting back up,” he sighed as the holograph flickered out. He dropped his hand and turned to face Wally. “I'm sorry, I'm gonna need a rain check.”

Wally's frown only deepened. Letting the dufflebag slip off his arm, he reached out to hold Dick's shoulders. “Dick, you _just_ got off patrol,” he stressed. Dick had been out all night, and came to Star to meet Wally for the tests early this morning. The day before, he'd worked a full shift at the Police Station. “You're running on fumes already, are you sure you should be out on the field?”

Dick rested his hands on Wally's forearms. “Walls, I'm fine. Long days are nothing new to me, I can handle it,” he insisted. Dick did have a handle on the whole erratic sleeping schedule thing at this point. “If I wasn't sure I'm at 100%, I wouldn't even think about going out. I'll sleep when I get back, alright?”

Wally didn't like it. Then again, he never did. The struggle between maintaining their personal lives and Dick's hero duties had been an issue for them ever since Wally retired. It had been the subject of many heated arguments. Since Wally had returned, there had been fewer arguments, but Wally found it even harder to see Dick go off into battle. He tensed his jaw, dropping his head with a sigh, before dropping his hands. “Alright,” he murmured as he pulled Dick in for a strong hug. “Be safe and kick ass.”

Dick returned the embrace with a tight squeeze, tilting his head back enough to catch one more kiss. “Always.”

Letting go was always the hard part. Wally didn't want to, would give anything to keep Dick in his arms a second longer, but Dick was stepping away and jogging down the hall before he had the chance to pull him back. Standing alone in the hallway once the footsteps of his boyfriend faded off down the corridor, drowned out by the white noise of air vents and lab equipment, Wally found himself a little at a loss. He strung the dufflebag over his shoulder, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and headed toward the exit.

It was barely light outside when he stepped out into the street. The sky above Bludhaven was a deep grey-blue, with the first lilac hints of dawn rising up over the bay. The air was thin, warm with the promise of heat later in the afternoon. Wally took in a deep breath for the sake of calming his nerves. He spotted the Krispy Kreme across the street and started walking the other way.

Wally's morning was largely uneventful after that. He stopped for a coffee on his way back to the apartment, still a little bitter that he couldn't share it with Dick. Once home, he dumped his dufflebag by the front door, flopping onto the couch and succeeding in spilling a bit of coffee on his shirt. He had an entire Saturday off, with nothing to sufficiently occupy him. He hated it, but he almost _missed_ having hours of coursework to do. Ever since graduating, he had a lot more free time. That wasn't always a good thing.

So, he made himself busy. He finished that report he'd been putting off, for fear of Dr. Lee coming for his neck. He cleaned the apartment at a human speed just to kill time. He did his laundry. He did Dick's laundry. He washed all their bedding. Finally he stopped cleaning just because he was certain he'd give Dick a heart attack when he got home. By early afternoon, he'd exhausted all other options, and finally resigned himself to his fate as a couch potato for the rest of the day.

Returning to the sofa, Wally stretched himself across the cushions and pulled his phone out of his pocket. As he scrolled mindlessly through notifications and social media, he opened the Twitter app to see if there was anything new or even vaguely interesting. No such luck -or so he thought. Wally had been just about to close the app and open YouTube when a list of trending hashtags caught his attention.

#SanDiego  
82k tweets

#SpaghettiMonster  
80k tweets

#JusticeLeague  
78k tweets

Wally pushed himself upright. The feeds for each hashtag were littered with articles, live streams of news stations broadcasting the event, and assorted shitposting. Setting his phone down, Wally dug around in the couch cushions until he found the remote, wedged between the seat and the armrest. He fumbled with the buttons before managing to turn the TV on. It was already set on a national news station. Leaning forward, Wally rested his elbows on his knees, clutching the remote in his hands as he watched the broadcast.

A middle-aged man in a clean cut suit sat at a desk, speaking directly into the camera. “...where a giant reptilian creature has been terrorizing the downtown core. We now go live to Sonia Greene from our chopper. What are we looking at, Sonia?”

The footage changed to a camera hovering above San Diego, probably attached to the bottom of the helicopter. A woman's voice played over the live-feed, edited with the station's watermark and other news bites scrolling through a red banner on the bottom. In the centre focus was the beast that had been set lose through San Diego. Wally couldn't really compare it to anything he'd ever seen, besides other alien or genetically modified creatures. It stood at about the height of a five story building, covered in thick green scales, with at the very least ten, long tail-like apendages smashing into the nearby buildings.

“Thank you, Lewis,” the woman said after a delay, “As of right now, we still have no clear confirmation of what this creature is, or where it came from. Eye witness reports have been flooding in all morning. Apparently, the monster was seen coming down from the mountains early this morning and headed straight toward the city. Response from the former sidekicks of the Justice League was swift, but damage has been reported widespread through out the city...”

She continued on, but to be honest, Wally could care less about what she was saying (though he did feel that residual bitterness at the word “sidekicks”). His attention narrowed to the live feed, trying to keep up with what was happening. The helicopter was high up over the city, well out of danger, and so it was difficult to pick out anyone he knew, but he managed. So far, he could see M'gann telekinetically lifting an empty semi-truck trailer to hurl at the monster's head. She just barely managed to fly out of the way of a tail lashing out at her.

Something exploded at the monster's right side. Wally looked closer, spotting Artemis riding the S-cycle over the city as she fired arrows at the beast. The explosion succeeded in distracting it long enough for her to shoot a polyurethane arrow at its feet. The high density foam slowed it down for a moment, but with a roar, the creature freed itself and tried to swat her out of the sky. It would have, had Conner leapt at the tail from the roof of a high building, grabbing onto it with a roar and dragging it to the ground. He landed on the ground, making a crater in his wake. When he dust cleared, Wally watched as he tried to hold the creature down. He was rewarded for his efforts by getting flung through the glass window of a department store.

Wally's grip on the remote turned his knuckles white. He still couldn't see Dick. His foot began to tap nervously on the floor.

The fight continued. For how long, Wally wasn't entirely sure, but his eyes never left the screen. He spotted Kaldur, summoning a tidal wave from the ocean to rise up over the city, only to form into massive bands that curled around the beast. It worked to restrain the creature for a few minutes before it broke free, the water bursting out and flooding down into the streets. Kaldur managed to summon the water back under his control before it could do any more damage.

Out of the corner of the screen, Wally watched as a spec thrown by the monster grew larger and larger as it flew through the air toward the helicopter – the camera shook. Wally's stomach dropped as he watched the ground rush up to meet the camera, the screams of the reporter and the helicopter crew dissonant in the background. Before it could crash, the falling haulted. Wally just barely caught sight of M'gann lifting the helicopter to safety before the video cut back to the news room.

“For you folks watching at home, from what we can tell, a piece of debris got caught in our chopper's blades. Our team was rescued by Miss Martian. We cannot make contact at the moment but we will update you once we can be certain that they are safe. For the time being we will be tuning in to our correspondent Ward Phillips, along with Cryptozoology Expert Dr. Humphrey Littlewit-”

Wally gritted his teeth and changed the channel. Flicking through various stations of football, home development shows, and sitcoms, he finally found another news station reporting on the attack in San Diego. They were already in the middle of a stream, which Wally was absently grateful for. He didn't know if his nerves could sit through more droning voices describing exactly what he was already looking at. The remote returned to his white knuckled grip, and his foot-tapping picked up speed.

This station's camera seemed to be set up on the rooftop of a building just a block down the main street from the chaos. The camera crew had probably set it up and then got the hell out as fast as they could. Besides a few more damaged cars, nothing seemed to have changed much in the past minute. Wally watched with his breath caught in his throat.

He hated this – in case that wasn't obvious already. Wally had gotten used to watching from the sidelines since he left the life. It'd never been easy, but his early retirement had been out of his hands. It had been what he needed at the time. No matter how much time had passed though, Wally couldn't stand sitting here and watching as his friends risked everything to save innocent lives. He hated not being able to do anything.

And, as much as he loathed to say... he missed the rush of it. He missed the exhilaration, the adrenaline, that warmth in his chest telling him he did something _truly worthwhile_.

His thoughts came to a screeching hault. A dark silhouette swung down from a nearby building, flipping forward into a landing beside Kaldur'ahm. Wally leaned forward, watching as Dick exchanged a few words with the Atlanean, pointing toward the creature. They both nodded, and looked up at M'gann hovering above them. She nodded in return, and lifted her hands to her temples. Establishing the psychic link, probably.

Dick shot his grappling hook at a telephone pole, and launched himself in the air. A tail shot out toward him. He let go, flipping forward and landing on top of it before he could be hit. Dick ran up the appendage, leaping over where it crossed with another tail, jumping back when the creature tried to swipe him off, only to be thrown off when the tail was jerked out from under his feet. He went flying, slamming his side straight against a mailbox.

Wally's super-sonic foot-tapping cracked the hardwood floor. He cringed, lifting his foot to see pieces of wood broken and scattered around the whole he'd made. Still, he couldn't find it in himself to care. He'd just fix it before the landlord saw. His attention instantly shot back up to the screen. Dick was on his stomach, braced on his forearms as he caught his breath for a moment and slowly pushed himself back up. He took all of a minute to shake it off before he was back in action again.

This time, he apparently changed his course. He shot his grappling hoot higher, and swung around the back of the creature while he was distracted by Artemis and Conner. Landing on it back, Dick grabbed onto the spikes protruding from its spine, and climbed up to the back of its neck. There, after struggling to maintain his balance when the creature finally noticed that he was there, Dick plunged something from his utility belt into the thick skin at the base of its skull. With a deafening roar, the beast collapsed onto the street. When the dust cleared, Dick was already walking down its arm and onto the pavement to reconvene with the rest of the original team.

Wally couldn't help feeling, as he watched the five of them gather together, that there was someone missing there. Finally letting the tension drain from him, Wally sighed and flopped back onto the couch. The remote dropped from his hands, bouncing on a few of its buttons. The channel changed to a gardening show.

Wally found himself in a bit of an odd place at that moment. It was, by all means, a gorgeous day outside, warm without being oppressively hot. He had the windows open, with a soft afternoon breeze rolling in and playing with the curtains. The apartment smelled like lemon scented pledge, and all together the atmosphere was fresh and light. And there Wally was, inside feeling useless and just – separated from it at all. His head lulled to the side on the back of the couch. Out the window, Bludhaven churned on blissfully unaware.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

When Dick got home about four hours later, Wally was stretched out on the sofa reading. In his defense, he hadn't been on the couch all day- after the disaster in San Diego had concluded, he sulked for another twenty minutes before deciding to take a walk around the block to clear his head. It had helped- a bit anyway. He'd still returned feeling a little tense and at a loss for what to do with his day. In reality, there was probably a lot he could have been doing – he just didn't.

Looking up from his book on Dimension Theory, he saw Dick kicking his shoes off at the door. He didn't even get the chance to say hello before the vigilante was walking into the living room, setting four take out containers of Pad Thai on the coffee table with a litre of pink Crush, and promptly flopping right on top of Wally.

With a light “oof” as Dick threw his weight on top of him, Wally laughed under his breath and wound an arm around his partner. Dick had showered at the Watchtower and changed into civvies before coming back. Wally pressed a kiss to Dick's temple before reaching around him to flip the page of his book. “Come here often, hot stuff?” he mumbled against his head.

Wally couldn't see Dick roll his eyes, but the accompanying groan was telling enough. “You need better lines,” Dick said as he shifted to rest his head on Wally's shoulder. The two of them barely fit on the couch at the same time, but a lot of practice had perfected their ability to Tetris themselves together.

“Hmm,” Wally hummed, “and yet they still work. Besides, needed to give that one a second go today. Restore my pride. So, do you?”

“Do I what?”

Wally grinned. “Come here often?”

Dick laughed despite himself. “As it just so happens, I live here,” he said. God, he sounded completely exhausted. It pulled on Wally's heartstrings.

“Ain't that a weird coincidence?” Wally teased. Dick only laughed more, pressing his forehead into Wally's neck as he held onto him tighter. Figuring he wasn't going to get any more reading done anyway. Wally dogeared the page he was on, close the book, and set it on the coffee table. As his arm came back, he settled his palm on Dick's hip, slowly slipping it up under his shirt. He felt along his side, over his bullet wound scar, feeling the hot skin where he was already starting to bruise along his ribs “Mailboxes aren't very good for breaking falls, huh?”

Dick raised a brow in confusion before the pieces clicked. “You watched it on the news?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Wally replied as he gently rubbed his hand over the bruise with a feather light touch. After a moment, his hand slipped over, kneading the muscles at the small of his back.

Duck hummed in appreciation under his breath. “It came from literally out of nowhere,” he said. “We can't find any trail on satellite, no traces of where it had come from or how it got to San Diego. Once we got it subdued we were able to call in the Lanterns to air lift it out. We're keeping it in a base in...” Dick trailed off, seeming to realize that he was rambling. He shook his head. “Sorry, babe.”

Wally used to hate when Dick would go on about what was happening with the team, or any vigilante work. It had been a sore spot. When Wally retired, he'd tried to leave all of that behind him, to focus on his life as a normal human, or as normal as he could possibly get. Obviously, he and Dick had to learn the hard way may times that it wasn't that easy. They'd established a “no hero talk” rule to keep the peace, but still, sometimes Dick slipped. “No, it's fine,” Wally answered quickly. “I... I don't mind.”

Dick tilted his head. “You sure?” he asked.

Wally was sure, and that was the weird thing. That lingering bitterness had melted away into an honest curiosity, and he couldn't smother it now if he tried. “Go ahead.”

“Alright...” Dick said slowly, still not entirely certain about Wally's conviction. “Well, we've got it on ice at a private base in Arizona. We can't tell if it's extraterrestrial or a genetically modified Earth creature. My bet was on a komodo dragon jacked up on steroids. They were about to start testing when I left, but from what I got, there might have been some crude form of mind control involved. That's what M'gann said anyway. She said she could feel it struggling in its own mind, but she couldn't get through to it telepathically. That's all we know so far, though.”

Wally nodded, moving his hand up to massage between Dick's shoulder blades. “Dunno,” he said after a quiet moment, “it looked more like the love child of and iguana and Cthulhu to me.”

Dick snorted, prompting Wally to kiss his forehead just because he couldn't help himself. “I think that might be more accurate” he laughed. “Lovecraftian Horror Monster. We'll get it a collar and a name tag.”

“I'd reconsider getting too attached. He didn't look very cuddly on TV.”

“No, he really wasn't.”

Wally smiled down at Dick as he felt his partner's lips ghost over his jaw. He turned his head down, catching his mouth in a soft kiss. Dick responded, but he was slow. “Tired?” Wally murmured. Dick only hummed in response. Wally dragged his fingers down Dick's spine and back up again, kissing his forehead as he used his free arm to pull a blanket down from over the back of the couch.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Dick woke up, and he was alone. Twilight was glowing rose and pale blue outside. The curtains swayed softly in the breeze from the open window. The apartment was quiet, and Wally was nowhere to be seen. Pushing himself up, the blanket that had been draped over him slid off and pooled on the floor – right next to a whole in the hardwood, but that was an issue of later. Rubbing his neck as he turned it side to side to get a kink out, Dick fought off the groggy vestiges of sleep.

“Wally?” he called out. No answer. Getting off the couch, he carefully minded the chips of wood below, and stood. Three out of four of the Pad Thai containers had been consumed, the forth missing from the coffee table. Following his hunch, Dick checked the kitchen fridge to find that it had been put away to keep until he ate it later. So, Wally had been up for a while after Dick fell asleep. He obviously wasn't in the kitchen, so he check the bedroom, and still, no sign of him. All of the lights were still off, but Wally's apartment key was still sitting on the table by the front door.

Dick found himself standing in the middle of the living room again, attention trailing to the open window. It was only then that he noticed that it had been opened wider since he'd come home. That left only one option, and honestly, Dick was a little surprised he hadn't made the connection first.

Crawling out the window and onto the fire escape, Dick looked up to find Wally sitting on the roof, his legs dangling off the side. He climbed barefoot up the series of zig-zagging metal ladders, hauling himself over the top. Wally finally noticed him then, acknowledging him from over his shoulder before turning his focus back out onto the sunset and the twinkling lights of the city beyond.

Dick dropped himself down beside his partner, mimicking his position and letting his legs dangle over the nineteen story drop. “Hey,” he said once he was seated. He clapped his hand onto Wally's shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Wally replied easily. “Just... had to do some thinking.”

“About what?” Dick asked.

Wally didn't reply at first. He watched in vague interest as his feet hung over the city, as if he could take one step and stand snug between the buildings lining the street – or as if it was enough to make him feel larger than life. Hint, it wasn't. Wally sighed, raising his head to look straight on toward the sunset. “I want back in,” he said.

Dick frowned, not quite making the connection at first. As it dawned on him, he let his hand slip off Wally's shoulder, and followed his gaze toward the horizon. “Okay,” he breathed. “Okay, but- Wally, you have to be sure this is what you want,” he stressed as he turned his gaze toward his partner. The copper tones of Wally hair were glowing gold in the fading light. Dick swallowed hard. “You have to be in 100%.”

Wally finally tore his gaze away from the sunset, looking Dick directly, deeply, in the eyes. “I want this, Dick.”

“Wally, if this is about today-”

“It's not,” Wally insisted before Dick could finish. “I've been thinking about this for a while, Babe. This isn't me just making up my mind on the spot. But today I realized just how much it meant to me to be able to get back on the field. I'm in, all the way.”

Dick exhaled slowly. Reaching between them, he took Wally's hand and laced their fingers together with a tight squeeze. “Alright. Then I'm with you. All the way.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The golden boy is back!
> 
> Your reviews makes my day. Please let me know what you think so far! 
> 
> Follow me at the links before for updates on the Watercolour series and various young justice shitposting. 
> 
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	2. Don't you move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucked up a perfectly good speedster is what you did. Look at it. It's got anxiety.
> 
> In all seriousness, gotta put a bit of a warning on this one, folks. **If you're sensitive to reading about panic attacks, proceed with caution.**

 

Dick had the window cracked open when Wally got home that evening. His partner was sitting at the desk, with his feet propped up on the surface, leaning back in the chair. He had his headphones on, drumming against the desk with is finger and a pencil with the end chewed to hell. Wally couldn't see what he was working on from the front door, but whatever it was must have either been hitting a dead end or just incredibly boring, because Dick didn't seem all that invested in it. He hadn't noticed Wally coming in yet.

Wally grinned to himself as he let his messenger bag slip off his shoulder. Slipping out of his shoes, he crept across the hardwood until he stood behind Dick's chair. Before the off-duty vigilante realized he was there, Wally grabbed the back of the chair and yanked it back. Of course, Dick may have been off-duty, but that didn't mean he completely turned off. The now horizontal Dick flipped with the momentum off the chair entirely, hands planted by his head to push himself into the air. Wally engaged his speed, the world slowing down to a stand still around him. With Dick currently in mid air, Wally grabbed his arm, wrapping his own arm around his waist, and pinned Dick to the floor. By the time the world caught up with him, he had Dick on the ground with his hands pinned above his head, while Wally straddled his waist. He grinned down at Dick as his partner blinked up at him.

After the customary minute to get over his shock, Dick's wide eyed gaping quickly morphed into what Wally was certain was an attempt at a glare. A valiant attempt, too. If he didn't know Dick well enough to see the laughter he was trying to smother, he would have thought he was actually mad. Wally burst into obnoxious laughter at the expression.

“ _Fuck_!” he exclaimed, out of breath and finally relaxing under Wally's hold. “I hate you, you know that?”

Wally only grinned harder. Had it been anyone else, Dick would have put them through the wall twice by now. He leaned down to kiss the tip of his partner's nose, laughing all over again when Dick scrunched up his nose. “You might have mentioned it before.”

Dick scowled up at him. From this angle, however, it looked more like a pout. “I loathe you, actually. Pretty sure you just became my mortal nemesis.”

Wally shrugged. “Guess that means I'm doing something right.”

Finally, Dick couldn't keep his expression straight any longer. “You're such an ass!” he laughed. “C'mon, let me up.”

Wally's smiled morphed into a devilish smirk. He lifted an eyebrow. “Don't think I want to.”

Dick instantly mirrored his expression. “Oh yeah?” he challenged.

Next thing Wally knew, he was getting slammed backwards onto the floor. That was the thing about super speed. He could react within a picosecond if he was prepared, and completely turn the fight in his favour. Catch him off guard, though? He was completely helpless. Somehow, Dick had managed to bring his legs up from behind Wally, cross them with his calves against Wally's chest, and push him down. With Wally's hands off his wrists, Dick was able to sit up, uncross his legs, shift onto Wally's waist, and pin him down by the wrists. All before Wally could even think “what the fuck just happened?”.

So, there he was, pinned, winded, and just a little bit turned on. Wally smirked up at his boyfriend. Just because he'd been bested didn't mean he'd been defeated. “What're you gonna do, _Officer_?” he teased in a faux sultry voice. He wiggled under Dick a bit just for good measure. “You gonna arrest me?”

Dick tried not to chuckle. “Wally.”

“You're so hot when you read the Miranda rights. Tell me, do I have the right to remain silent?”

“Wally.”

“Oh, better get the handcuffs.”

“ _Wally_.”

“Or pat me down. You don't know if I could be packing a lethal weapon in my-”

Dick leaned down and caught Wally's lips in a kiss before he could say anymore. Years of experience had taught him that this was the most efficient way to get Wally to shut up. Effective, too. Wally smiled into the kiss, breathing Dick in as a soft gust of fresh air rolled in from the window. He relaxed his arms under Dick's hold, prompting Dick to let him go so Wally could better engage his hands.

Wally's hands slid up Dick's thighs, smoothing over his ass, before gliding up under his shirt and settling over his hips. His fingertips just barely grazed the medical tape plastered over Dick's left side. Wally'd helped him dress it this morning before they both left for work. He hadn't suffered any bad cracks in his ribs, thank God, and the bruising was almost gone. Perks of having some of the best medicine in the world at his disposal.

Swiping his tongue into Dick's mouth, Wally sighed in content as he was met with gentle tongue and slow lips from his partner. Dick's hands had gravitated toward Wally's head, cradling his jaw in his palms.

Dick chuckled quietly into Wally's mouth. “You smell like the lab,” he murmured.

Wally laughed in return, the sound warm in his chest. He knew what that meant – like disinfectant, various chemicals, and just a hint of smoke and fire extinguishing foam. Wally was thankful every day he left Star with both his eyebrows and all his hair. The mention of the laboratory, however, quickly had Wally's attention darting off. “Oh!” he gasped as he pulled away from the kiss.

Dick blinked, and Wally was gone. The customary flash of moving colours and wind had disappeared before Dick could catch up, and suddenly he was sitting on the floor, the solid body that had previously been beneath him entirely vanished. Dick groaned and leaned forward until his forehead hit the floor.

Wally, in the mean time, had sped over to the bag he'd left at the front door, rifling through various files until he pulled out an orange folder. “Before I forget!” the speedster grinned as he hurried back into the living room. “I told Dr. Lee that I'm planning on coming out of retirement. She gave me a lecture about getting clearance after another test and all that junk, but she's gonna help me develop my new suit. Check it out! ….Babe?”

Wally stopped short in the middle of the living room, staring down at his boyfriend, who was currently sitting on the floor. Evidently, he was still mourning their interrupted make out session. Dick turned his head just enough to glare up at Wally, who grinned sheepishly in return. He'd probably not only killed the mood, but cremated it and spread the ashes.

Finally, Dick pushed himself up off the ground and followed Wally over to the couch. Wally opened the folder and pulled out a few papers, spreading them out over the coffee table. They were all similar images, a basic male figure from the front and the profile, probably copied from the same image. Each one had different designs transferred over the faceless figure, drawn out on a computer and printed out. Dick picked through the papers. They all had notes hand written on two different styles, one he recognized as Wally's messy scrawl. The other, Dick assumed, belonged to Dr. Lee. The designs themselves stuck to the same concept, a one piece suit made of friction resistant material with a thin and durable form of Kevlar that wouldn't restrict Wally's movement. Shuffling through the papers, Dick stopped at one design that seemed to have the most writing in the white space surrounding the suit. It was similar to the style of Wally's old Kid Flash uniform, with a half-cowl to expose his hair. It was entirely red, with deeper red accents on the side, and a silver Flash symbol on the chest instead of the customary gold.

Dick glanced up at Wally with a sly smile. “You decide to come out of retirement and the _first_ thing you think about is designing your new uniform?”

Wally frowned. “Yeah. Why? Is there something wrong with that?”

Dick shrugged with a false grimace. “I dunno, Walls.... that's pretty gay.”

Wally repaid the comment with a pillow slammed against Dick's face.

Dick laughed and pushed the pillow away before setting the papers down on top of the folder. He pointed to the last one, which he'd left on the top of the pile. “I like this one,” he said as he stood up.

Wandering over to the kitchen, he pulled the fridge door open and rooted through until he pulled out two bottles of beer. Dick popped the cap of each bottle before bringing them back into the living room. He took up his previous spot on the couch next to Wally and handed him his bottle. The two clinked bottles and took a swing. Wally picked up the remote and draped and arm around Dick's shoulder. After minimal bickering over what to watch, they settled on reruns of Celebrity Hockey. Dick leaned against Wally, wincing and shifting only once to adjust himself when he irritated his side. Once he was comfortable, he took another sip from his beer.

“We'll need to talk to Barry, preferably sometime this week,” he commented. “Get things in motion. He can help with getting you back in shape.”

Wally nudged Dick's shoulder. “You saying I'm out of shape?”

Dick glanced up at him from the corner of his eyes. “In shape for being on the field. You've been out of the game for a long time.”

“I managed to pin _you_ , didn't I?” Wally chuckled.

Dick rolled his eyes, leaning up for a quick peck. “You play dirty.”  
  
Far from arguing, Wally smiled and chased Dick's lips for one more kiss. Settling back against the couch again, Wally turned back to the TV.

“We can call him later tonight,” Dick said. Accounting for the time difference in the Midwest, they'd have to wait until Barry got off work. “Then we can take the Zeta tube whenever-”

“Why don't we invite him here?” Wally's attention tore away from the screen and back to his boyfriend in an instant.

Dick noticed. Of course he did, he noticed virtually everything. “I don't know, just figured it would be easier for him,” he answered slowly.

Wally, feeling Dick's attentive gaze drill into him, shifted on the sofa cushion. He removed his arm from around Dick's shoulder, as if mere contact alone was enough for Dick to be able to read his mind. “We should have him come over here,” Wally attempted to speak in a casual tone. “That way we can use Star Lab's track. You know, if we're going to do a bit of training.”

Dick's brow furrowed. “They have the same track at the lab in Central.”

“Yeah,” Wally faultered, “but the staff here know me and how my powers are working at the moment better. And they all know Barry already. I just think it makes more sense.”

Dick didn't respond at first. Wally had to tense up just to keep from fidgeting under his stare. At last, Dick let it go, sighing heavily with an indifferent shrug. “Alright, whatever you say.”

Wally let himself relax with that. Or at least he tried to. Dick leaned into his side, prompting Wally to wrap his arm around his shoulders again. Wally complied, his movements mechanic though he kept a collected exterior. He breathed slowly, letting each breath fill his chest completely, and exhaled in a steady rhythm – he was focused too much on breathing normally to actually breathe normally. He didn't know why, which was the frustrating part. Or at least, he did know _why_ , but that was past. It was a nonissue. There was no logical reason for the tight coiling heat building up in his chest.

Dick placed a heavy hand on his knee. It was only then that Wally realized he'd been taping his foot at high speed. He swallowed, inhaled, and took a swing from his beer. Wally became hyper-aware of the ice cold liquid sliding down his esophagus, pooling in the pit of his stomach with a pleasant sting. It wasn't enough. Standing up with a little more force than was necessary, Wally set his beer down on the coffee table, soaking a ring stain into his papers, and crossed over to the window. He pushed it open all the way, letting a burst of cool air flow into the room.

Wally stood there for a moment, just breathing in the free moving air. When he turned back to Dick, he was entirely composed, smiling as he jerked his thumb toward the window. “It was _boiling_ in here,” he said as he dropped himself back in his place on the couch. “Just needed some fresh air.”

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

They met Barry at the Zeta in Gotham, the grimy little telephone booth tucked away in an alley. It'd been two days since Wally had called his Uncle. Scheduling enough time together in the east coast city without giving away what they were there for had been difficult, but Barry had smothered his own curiosity when Wally assured him that he would clear things up in person. So, Dick and Wally met up with him in the dingy little alley at 8pm on a Thursday night, as the nocturnal city just began to wake up.

The three of them ended up walking down a few blocks to a quaint Italian Bistro that didn't look too busy. No real fear of being heard, honestly. It was astonishing what people would hear and completely overlook or ignore. They got a booth in the back, sliding into seats that looked like they hadn't been reupholstered since the 80's. After getting their complimentary water and bread sticks, and ordering a bottle of wine to share, Barry finally leaned forward against the table.

“Alright, you two,” Barry said with a slight smirk. “What was so important that you had to drag me out here?”

Wally and Dick exchanged a glance, and Dick nudged him encouragingly. This act only intensified the expectant look on Barry's face. Wally nodded at his partner, reaching out to grab his water. He went to take a sip from the straw only to realize, to his disgust, that the half the paper was still covering the top. He spit at it when it stuck to his lips until it fell off. Great start, West.

Barry chuckled. “Nervous, Kid?”

“Shut up, Old Man,” Wally shot right back before finally succeeding in getting a sip of his ice water. “Okay,” he sighed. Looking up at his former mentor, he inhaled slowly and just came out with it. “I want to come out of retirement.”

Barry's eyebrows shot up at that. Apparently, that wasn't what he'd been expecting. “Is that it?”

Wally only blanched at his reaction – or lack thereof. “What do you mean 'is that it'? I've been obsessing over this for weeks!”

“No, no, I mean-,” Barry dissolved into a light laugh, raising his hands in surrender. “Kid, listen. I've known for a while now that it was only a matter of time before you'd want back in. I never brought it up, because I knew how hard leaving the life was for you. But Walls,” Barry shook his head as he smiled as his nephew, “the way you were framing this whole thing, with how nervous you've been today, I was expecting something a little more... substantial. To be honest, I thought you were going to tell me you two were engaged.”

Wally, of all things, laughed at that. He surprised even himself as he shook his head and leaned back against the musty fabric of the booth. Glancing to his side, he found Dick mirroring his expression, a light-hearted fondness as the idea. “No,” Wally replied to his Uncle. “Not yet, anyway.” His smile grew just a little bit when he caught sight of the gold chain Dick still had hanging around his neck. Not yet.

“So, you want back in,” Barry said as he leaned against the table again. “You know you don't need my permission or anything, right?”

Turning back to his former mentor, Wally nodded and sat up straight. “I figured,” he nodded, “but I still wanted to talk to you about it. It... It means a lot to me to have your approval, Barry. You know that. If I'm coming back, I want back in with you.”

“If you want my approval, Wally,” Barry started sincerely, “you have it. I'd love nothing more than to have you back.”

Wally had known from the start that Barry would welcome him back with open arms. He'd known that Barry would be supportive, that he'd be happy for him, he hadn't doubted any of that for a moment. Yet there was still that rush of relief in hearing it out loud that Wally wouldn't quite understand. He grinned at his Uncle, and then at his partner. Dick's smile wasn't as wide, but its brightness spoke volumes to how much he understood what this meant to Wally.

However, with the first order of business out of the way, Dick finally took his turn to speak up. Smile fading, he reached under the table to take Wally's hand as he addressed the elder speedster. “This isn't just about telling you he's coming back, though Barry,” he began. “Wally hasn't been active in years, and he's not going to be completely up to speed-”

“Nice,” Barry and Wally snickered at the same time, exchanging a grin and a fist bump from across the table

Dick pinched the bridge of his nose. God only know how Iris put up with them both, because sometimes Dick certainly didn't feel like he had the patience. “You know what I mean. He's going to be rusty. We're going to need your help in training him again.”

“It's not like I've forgotten _everything_ ,” Wally rolled his eyes. “I just need a refresher, a bit of sparring to get me back on my game. Like riding a bike, right? It's all muscle memory.”

“We'll see about that,” Dick sighed.

“We will,” Wally insisted as he slipped his straw out of his water. He rolled it between his fingers, tapping it against the table just to have something to fidget with. “Anyways,” he veered the subject, “I'm gonna need a new name. Bart's doing good as Kid Flash, and full offense but I think I've outgrown that alias.”

“I don't know,” Dick grinned. “You still act like a Kid. I think you could get away with it.”

Wally ripped off a piece of bread from the basket and threw it at him. “Could say the same for you, _Robin_.”

“Hey, both of you, keep it down,” Barry chuckled. They'd been talking quietly, but an elderly couple a few booths down kept staring at them. Mostly likely on account of the bread throwing. “New name. Okay. Got any ideas?”

Wally shifted in his seat, pulling a worn little piece of folded paper out of his back pocket. He unfolded it on the red and white checkered table, smoothing it flat with his hands. “A few,” he said as he scanned over his writing. He'd been jotting down ideas ever since he talked to Dick about making his return to the hero life, most of which had been scratched out or rewritten over the past several days. “I've been thinking Bolt, trying to keep with the whole Flash brand. Zoom's obviously taken,” he said,watching Barry cringe, “so I've got the Blur, Crimson Lightning, Dash, Rush, Dart-”

“I veto'd that one,” Dick interrupted.

Wally shrugged. “I still think it's funny.”

“Wally, those are all...” Barry struggled to find an inoffensive word, “creative. But,” Barry laced his fingers on the table, fixing Wally with an all at once serious and meaningful smile, “have you considered, maybe... The Flash?”

Dick and Wally both fell into an awestruck silence at the suggestion. The clatter of silverware, and low toned voices of the few other patrons of the restaurant was overwhelming. Wally sputtered, blinking his shock away. “Barry, you don't have to retire-”

“That's not what I mean,” Barry laughed quietly. “I will retire. Someday. I can't be The Flash forever. But Wally, I want you to take up the mantel the same way I did, because you've _earned_ it. You really have. You're right, you're not Kid Flash anymore. You're a grown man, and I couldn't me more proud of you. You deserve this. Besides,” Barry smiled as he sat back again. “There are _four_ Green Lanterns, aren't there? I don't think two Flashes will hurt anybody.”

Shocked into silence once again, Wally struggled to absorb Barry's words. Dick squeezed Wally's hand, running his thumb over his knuckles. Finally, Wally coughed into his hand, clearing his throat in an obvious attempt at keeping his tears at bay.

“Thank you, Uncle Barry,” he said in a tight voice. “That's.... yeah, thank you.”

To spare Wally's pride, the conversation drifted. The waitress came back with their wine, took their orders, and for the remainder of their meal they could have been mistaken for any ordinary customers. They talked, and laughed, drank their wine, and between Wally and Barry ate an ungodly amount of lasagna. By the end of dinner, it had seemed that all thoughts of the crimefighting life had vanished from their minds. Or, again, that was how it had seemed.

Their table was cleared, their bill paid, and before long the three of them were stepping out into the dark streets of Gotham. However, before Wally could notice, as he continued up the street to hail them a cab, Barry grabbed Dick's forearm to keep him back. Dick looked up at the elder hero in questioning, but otherwise didn't question him just yet. Barry's eyebrows were pulled, his expression taught and eyes distant even as he looked the young man in the eyes.

“Listen, Dick,” Barry began quietly, keeping his voice down so Wally wouldn't overhear. “With Wally suiting up again... I just want you to know that I'm going to look after him out there. I won't let him down.” The unspoken “again” weighed heavier between them than anything Barry could have said aloud.

Dick frowned. “Barry-”

But the man wouldn't let him finish. “I know what you're going to say,” Barry insisted with a wave of his hand. “I know. Just take me at my word for it, okay?”

It wasn't Barry's fault. That was all Dick had wanted to say, Barry was right. Wally's presumed death during the invasion was something none of them had been prepared for, something that no one could have prevented. Dick remembered thinking for years about how Barry had been the one to see Wally disappear. He remembered watching the footage in the watchtower, how Barry had shouted something and reached out to Wally as he faded away into light. Dick knew that Barry felt he had failed Wally. That wasn't a feeling that disappeared just because Wally had by some miracle returned to them. It only made his conviction stronger. Barry wouldn't fail him again.

Arguing was pointless. As much as Dick didn't want Barry to shoulder the responsibility alone, he knew it was best to just let it go. Dick exhaled slowly, looking up the street as Wally spoke to a taxi driver through the window of the stalled car, and waved them over. “Okay.”

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

It was another week before they had enough time to meet in Gotham again. A week of shifts at the lab for Wally and the precinct for Dick, with cozy nights at home as they attempted to cook for each other with varied success. They did, finally, get their lazy Saturday to play video games and engage in more intimate activities as well. Still, all week, Wally felt his training day creeping up on him with increasing dread. It felt more like an assessment than working to get him up to fighting standards, to be honest, or that was what he'd somehow convinced himself. He didn't know why he was dreading it so much, either. He used to spar with Barry all the time when he was first starting out, and Dick had been the one to teach him basic flips when they were kids. This wasn't going to be any different.

Despite repeating that to himself on an endless loop, Wally was consumed with his apprehension. He tossed and turned the night before, unable to sleep because he just kept thinking about how the day would go, like he was trying to anticipate it. The fact that Dick had gone out on patrol that night and didn't slip back into bed until four in the morning didn't help at all. Wally had pretended to be asleep when Dick came in. He still wasn't sure why.

“You ready, Kid?” Barry called from the other end of the track.

“Yeah. 'Course,” Wally called back. Geez, even he thought he sounded pitiful.

Barry was in his full Flash suit, while Wally had been given the white training suit. Pretending to stretch and limber up, Wally cast a glance over at the adjacent side of the track, where Dick had stationed himself with Dr. Ramsay. They'd set up the usual equipment to monitor and assess the speedsters' combat at a rate they could actually see. Feeling Wally's eyes fixed on him, Dick glanced up at his partner and flashed him a smile and a thumbs up. Wally attempted the same gesture back. It felt hollow.

“Alright,” Dick called to the speedsters. “On my mark,” he raised his hand in the air. “Three. Two. One.”

Wally watched Dick's hand come down. That was his first mistake. By the time he looked back toward his Uncle, Barry was already gone. Wally cursed to himself, engaging his speed just barely in time to dodge a lunge. He dropped to the ground and rolled out of the way, but the execution was clumsy. Wally stumbled back up to his feet, willing himself to drown out every other thought and distraction in the still world around him to focus on his fight.

Barry aimed a punch to Wally's jaw. Their sparring was never enough to hurt, never enough to bruise, but it was contact fighting. Wally lifted his forearm to block the blow, but before he got the chance to retaliate, Barry was using his other hand to grab Wally's blocking arm. He pulled, throwing Wally off balance and succeeding in tossing him across the track. Wally, by some miracle, landed on his feet.

Barry was _fast_. Wally knew he could keep up, he'd always been able to, but he couldn't get out of his own fucking head. He tried to land a kick, and Barry was behind him before his foot hit open air. He tried to punch, and Barry was dodging out of the way and landing his own. He tried to run, and Barry caught up to him. He tried to flip, and Barry was kicking him out of the air. The few strikes Wally managed to win fed into moments of confidence, squashed and burned before Wally ever got the opportunity to celebrate.

Wally pushed himself. His frustration fueled him to go faster, but the faster he pushed himself, the closer he got to exhaustion until finally – he hit the wall. As Wally tripped over his own unstable legs, he stumbled to the ground without a finishing blow from his mentor, the spinning world around him slowly haulting. Left panting on the ground to catch his breath, Wally struck his fist against the rubber tarmac and gritted his teeth. He knew he shouldn't have been so emotional about it, shouldn't have taken it so personally, but there was no helping it.

“Hey,” Barry stood over him, offering a sympathetic smile as he leant Wally his hand, “don't beat yourself up, Kid. Give it time.”

Wally dropped his head with a harsh breath, taking a moment to compose himself before taking the offered hands and letting Barry help pull him up to his feet. Barry clapped a hand on his back, holding him there with a reassuring gaze. Wally attempted a sorry smile. The two made their way back to the table, where Dick was already slowing down the footage.

Dick kept a schooled expression as he looked up at Wally from over the top of the computer monitor. Wally usually thought of himself as an expert when it came to reading Dick, but when the man didn't want to be read, he was impenetrable. Dick rounded the desk, leaning back against the table with his arms crossed and his brows furrowed in thought. “We'll start off slow,” he said. “Build up from there. It's like you said, Wally, it's just a matter of muscle memor-”

“Yeah, I should _know_ this, I get,” Wally snapped before he could reign himself in. Dick's arms slowly dropped, blue eyes widening just a fraction at the outburst. Wally didn't even want to know how Barry was looking at him. The redhead dropped his gaze, regret puddling like liquid mercury in his gut. “I-I'm sorry, babe,” he murmured when he gained the courage to look him in his eyes again.

Dick exhaled through his nose. “You're frustrated, I get it. It's fine,” he said as he pushed his hand back through his hair. “Let's take a break. We can pick up again after.” Reaching behind him, Dick grabbed a bottle of water from off the table and passed it to his partner.

Wally took the bottle after a slight hesitation, his fingertips brushing over the back of Dick's hand as he accepted it. Ripping off the cap, he raised the bottle to his lips and gulped down the ice cold water as if it alone could cool the heat coiling tight in his chest.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Training was – well, it was happening. Over the course of the past week and a half, he and Dick had made it a point to use the track as often as possible. Dick would come to the lab when he got off work, usually arriving just as Wally was finishing up. They'd stay at Star for an extra hour every evening, working on Wally's reaction time, his technical fighting, agility, just about anything that Dick could throw at him. Barry had gotten the chance to come back twice since their first session, but otherwise was understandably tied up between his own job, patrol, and a house terrorized by two toddlers.

Wally would like to say that he was making progress, but he really couldn't see any. Dick was a hard coach, but he was encouraging, and he made sure to leave all training talk at the door of the track when they left every night. Still, Wally couldn't help the nagging feeling that he was just stuck. It felt as if he was just running in place, not getting anywhere no matter how hard he pushed himself. There was always that moment of self doubt before every sparring session, like running on slick ice and he couldn't get traction. Dick told him that he was living in his head too much, that he had to let go. Easier fucking said than done.

To be honest, it had been putting Wally in a bit of a foul mood. Like Dick, he tried to leave his training at the door, but the looming failure followed him home every night, creeping up on him in moments he least expected it. That searing hot coil in his chest was tighter than ever. He felt that he could snap at any moment.

Sitting at his shitty little desk off the main laboratory, Wally tried to absorb himself in his work. He needed to type out and compile notes from an experiment he'd worked on earlier that day with Dr. Lee, and he hadn't finished half of what he needed for the day. The clock on the other side of the room ticked closer and closer to 5pm. Even super speed couldn't help him finish this now. He just couldn't find the will to concentrate. He'd just given up and started packing everything into his bag when he heard the door on the other side of the room open. Dick popped his head in with a smile before making his way over to Wally's desk.

Wally closed his back and slipped it over his shoulder as he stood. “Ready to get started?” he asked with all the enthusiasm he could muster. It wasn't much.

“Not tonight,” Dick shook his head with a grin. “I just got off the phone with Bruce. They're doing a system update in the Watchtower tonight, and a lot of the Team is going to be there. I was just going to head up after training, but this is as good a time as any.”

Wally didn't follow. “A good time too...”

“Reinstate you in the League's servers,” Dick finished for him. “You're still technically listed as deceased in the database, so while they're updating, it's the perfect time to get that switched over. While we're up there, you can tell the Team that you're coming back. It's a two birds, one stone deal.”

Up there. Wally tried to swallow, finding his throat suddenly too thick. “Right,” he nodded, struggling to keep up a straight facade. “Seems like a lot of trouble, going all the way up there, though. Why can't we just do it from any of the servers down here? The one in the Batcave is the same system, isn't it?”

Dick shook his head, already heading back toward the door. “Can't. To get you back online, we need to do it from the core server, and now that the Team and the League are operating out of the Watchtower, that's the only option. It'll be quick, you literally just have to walk through and let the computer recognize you,” Dick explained as he opened the door. Glancing over his shoulder, he frowned to find that Wally was still standing at his desk. “Walls? You coming?”

Wally blinked rapidly, his grip tightening around the strap of his bag. “Yeah, just- mind if we stop at home first? I don't want to lug my bag around all night.”

“Just leave it here, then,” Dick replied. “We can pick it up on the way back.”

Right. That made sense. There was no logically arguing with that. Wally managed a mechanic nod, letting the bag slide off his shoulder and onto his empty chair. “Okay,” Wally said as he joined Dick at the door. “Let's get this over with.”

The trip to the Zeta Tube was torture. They took a cab from Bludhaven, across the bridge into Gotham, and got out a few blocks away from their actual destination. Wally didn't say a word the entire journey. He pressed his forehead against the cool glass window of the cab, closed his eyes and listened to the rumble of the engine and passing cars. If he didn't know any better, he would have believed his burning forehead could have melted straight through the glass pane. When they disembarked, Dick took Wally's hand, and the two walked in what seemed like a casual silence toward the little grimy alley with its little fucking telephone booth.

The closer they got, the tighter his chest became. That persistent coil in his chest grew hotter and hotter, drawing heat from his limbs until the tips of his toes and his fingertips were cold and numb. Wally gave nothing away.

They turned the corner. Dick stopped outside the telephone booth, glancing down at his phone and swiping through a few texts from Bruce. Pocketing the device, he took one cursory glance toward the mouth of the alley to be sure that no one was paying them any attention before turning back to Wally. “Bruce is ready on his end. I'll go up first to make sure you're set up. Just walk in once I'm through, okay?” With nothing more than a kiss on the cheek, Dick pulled back the rusty door and stepped inside the booth. As soon as he closed it, a swirling glow erupted from inside, followed by a hollow mechanical voice.

_Recognized: Nightwing. B01._

Wally stood alone in the alley, and for a moment, he thought he might run. Every instinct in his body was screeching at him to run away as fast as possible, to get as much distance between himself and this harmless kiosk as he could. He licked his lips, breathed in, struggled to swallow his anxiety, but it went down like gravel in his throat.

This was stupid, and he knew it. That was the worst part. Wally had used this exact Zeta Tube hundreds of times in the past and not batted an eye. There wasn't a single reason to be staring at the booth like it was a coffin, and let here he was, stumbling back from it. Wally's back hit the wall of the narrow alley. With a loud groan, he pushed his fingers back through his hair and glared at the telephone booth. It was ridiculous. He'd stalled enough already, and the last thing he needed was his friends questioning why it had taken him so long to just go through.

He did have to go through. He was just delaying the inevitable. Wally pushed off the wall before he had the chance to change his mind and marched straight into the phone booth. The moment he slammed the folding door shut in front of him, Wally felt the blood drain from his body. He'd been through the Zeta beams a hundred times before. He remembered what it felt like.

That was the problem.

The whir of the Zeta beam started up in a deafening crescendo. Light began to swirl around him, growing more and more intense as the whirring grew louder and Wally felt all weight lift from his body and in a last moment of mortal panic he tried to lash out, tried to bang his fists on the phone booth door but it wasn't there anymore, _he_ wasn't there anymore. He was nowhere. Dissolved into endless light and sound, entirely sensationless yet overwhelming his senses at the same time, Wally was running. He had no body, no form, but he was running, he knew that he was running and he couldn't stop, everything was too _fast_ , he couldn't slow down, couldn't catch his breath, didn't even lave lungs to breathe into but knew that he _needed_ it. He felt nothing, ironically freed from the soul binding panic he'd felt in the alley without a body to break with molten anxiety, but he wasn't freed from it entirely either. Every would-be sense, all that tight coiling and numbness and inability to hold a breath, the burden was all loaded onto his chaotic mind. Wally couldn't run from it. He kept running, and running, and running, desperate to find away out, to stumble back out onto the frozen Arctic ice, but there was no gap, no escape from the isolated hell he'd been stuck in without reprieve all this time, no alleyway, no cozy apartment in the arms of his lover with the window open and breezes blowing through, _nothing_ , and still he was forced to run until finally –

Wally hit the wall. Only he was a comet and wall was the Earth's surface.

_Updated. Flash II. B03._

In all, it had only lasted a second. One second of suspension, and Wally was slammed back into his body on the other end with the force of an extinction level event. Stumbling out of the blinding lights of the Zeta beam, Wally knew in his rational mind that he was standing in the atrium of the Watchtower. He saw that his friends, his former teammates, were standing talking together in a group over by the window. He saw Dick with Bruce and Barry at the holographic computer hub. He felt the solid concrete beneath his feet and the artificial air of the orbiting satellite. He heard Dick say his name in questioning.

His mind and his body weren't connecting, though. Like someone had snipped the wire clean between his brain and his nervous system. He knew, rationally, where he was and what was happening. He knew that he was safe, but all he could see was eternal nothingness, and all he could feel was eternal nothingness, and some dark voice in the back of his mind kept taunting that he'd never really left, that he was still there. He'd just gone mad, started inventing reunions, cozy apartments, glowing sex, snowball fights, and blanket forts just to cope. Now that line between reality and fiction was getting smeared and flipped. Wally felt caught somewhere between already dead and fucking _dying_.

“Wally?” Dick's palms cupped his face, but the touch was lost. Wally looked straight through him, feelings as if he was floating several feet above his own body and watching it from afar. “Wally, hey, what's wrong? Baby? Wally, _baby,_ look at me,” Dick whispered urgently, blue eyes blow wide and fearful. “Baby, come on, breathe. Come on, look at me, you're oka- hey, hey, hey, stay with me,” he gasped, catching him as Wally stumbled into him, legs threatening to give out.

Wally wasn't exactly sobbing, but he was breathing like he was, gasping with uneven hitches until his throat was raw and burning. None of it felt _real_. He was vaguely aware of Dick turning from him to face the others, catching glimpses of worried and shocked faces watching him like a cornered animal. Dick said something, Wally didn't understand what, something about “don't crowd” and “I've got him”. But then he was turning back to him, wrapping and arm around Wally's waist and pulling Wally's arm over his shoulder to take the brunt of his weight. Wally found himself being guided away before he realized he was moving.

Dick took him down the hall into a dark room. Dark, still, and quiet were the only things Wally had half a mind to notice about it, all other details lost to the roar of blood pumping in his ears. Dick gently pushed him to sit on something soft tucked away in the corner, leaving him alone for one mortifying second, before returning with the sound of something rolling on the ground. Dick sat in front of Wally, their knees touching, and took his hands in both of his.

“Wally,” Dick breathed, “look at me, baby.” Though his voice was soft, his tone was firm, commanding, a steady contrast to the wild panic tormenting Wally's mind. “I'm going to count to four, and you're going to breathe in. You're going to hold it for seven seconds, and breath out as I count to eight. Okay?” he paused, waiting until he received a shaky nod. “In, two, three, four. Hold it, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Good, you're doing good. Again. In, two, three, four. Hold it, two, three-”

Dick caught off as Wally broke into a mangled gasp, unable to hold back the primal need to breathe heavily through is panic. Dick squeezed his hands gently in his lap to bring his attention back to him. “It's okay, you're okay. We're going to try again, alright? In, two three...”

And they kept going like that. When Wally needed to start over, they started over, until finally his breathing began to even out somewhat. All the while, Dick guided him through it with an unshakable calm. When Wally was finally breathing properly, Dick turned his hands over with Wally's on top of his own, his partner's fingertips laying against the inside of his wrist.

“Can you feel my pulse?” Dick asked quietly. When Wally didn't respond, Dick gently prompted him. “Talk to me, Wally. Can you feel my pulse?”

Wally finally managed to nod. “Y-Yeah.”

“Good,” Dick offered a light smile. “Try to match your breathing to that rhythm okay? Count in your head. I'm right here with you,” he whispered. Freeing one hand, Dick reached up and laid his palm over the back of Wally's neck to ground him. “I'm here with you, Wally,” he repeated. “We're in the Watchtower. You're safe, I promise.”Dick slipped his hand down from Wally's neck to take his free hand, guiding it down to the surface he was sitting on. “Tell me how that feels.”

It took Wally time to get any coherent words on his dry tongue, time he spent staring down at his hand where it was splayed out next to him. “Dry...” Wally gasped. “It's dr...y.... n'soft....uhm...”

Dick traced his fingertips along the underside of Wally's wrist. “Keep going. What is it?”

Wally, though his hand shook, slowly swiped his hand over the surface. “S'a bed...” he murmured. For the first time since he'd been brought in here, Wally looked up and around at his surroundings. They were in a bedroom. He was sitting on a bed, and Dick had taken a chair from a simple desk on the opposite wall to sit in front of him. An empty bedroom, left entirely untouched. A lot of heroes, from the Team to the Leaguers, had rooms up here to stay after touch missions, or when they simply had nowhere else to do. Dick had brought them to one of the few uninhabited ones, crisp and clean and entirely without distraction. “I'm in a bed... bedroom... with y-you.”

Dick let out a long breath, his shoulders dropping as he leaned forward to press their foreheads together. “I've got you.”

It took an hour for Wally to calm down. An hour of ups and downs, of counting breaths and describing sensations until they were made real and concrete in his mind. Dick was endlessly patient, something that, as Wally slowly came to his senses again, he was incomprehensibly grateful for. They ended up lying on the bed together with Wally's head against Dick's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart while Dick carded his fingers through his hair. Raquel came in at some point carrying two glasses of water, wordlessly setting them on the nightstand with a smile and a gentle squeeze to Dick's shoulder. Wally remembered it like a fever dream, but had drank the water so fast Dick had to coax him to slow down before he choked.

As the worst of the panic ebbed away like a low tide, leaving behind only a lingering anxiety, Wally sighed heavily and let the tension drain out of his body.

Dick pressed his lips to the top of Wally's head as he continued to massage his scalp. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I should have known. I should have _noticed_.”

“Dick,” Wally's voice was raw and cracked, but finally even. “It's okay-”

“ _That_ was not okay, Wally.”

Wally exhaled to Dick's pulse in his ear. “... I know, but it wasn't your fault.”

Dick didn't respond to that. Letting the silence drag on a moment too long, Dick just pressed another kiss to Wally's crown and moved his hand down to rub circles over his back. “M'gann has the Bioship docked up here. I'll ask her to give us a ride back down,” he murmured. “...I'm so sorry.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. That got pretty intense. 
> 
> Please comment to let me know what you think. Even a few simple words is honestly thrilling to read. 
> 
> [「TWITTER」](https://twitter.com/novaviis) [「TUMBLR」](https://novaviis.tumblr.com)


	3. Apologies, I'm not myself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I actually say this enough. I read every single one of your comments. I read them when you post them, I read them on heavy days when I need to smile. Even when I don't reply to them, I go back and read them sometimes and they keep me writing. Thank you so much.
> 
> Also, in case you were wondering, your eyes do not deceive you. This just became five chapters. It started off with a three chapter plan, but I just have so much more that I want to address and deal with. So, prepare for more!

 

 

Wally woke up to a hand on his shoulder, static in his ears, and a scream dying in his throat. Like he'd been struck by lightning (and he knew the feeling) he shot up with a strangled gasp. There was so much sound, he couldn't hear a thing. His head buzzed with white noise, a ringing that reverberated all the way down his spine and back. He was _shaking_ with it, each breath rattling his lungs. Wally's fingers curled into the blanket piled over his lap as he doubled over himself.

The hand on his shoulder tightened in a grounding squeeze. As the noise in his head finally faded, Wally heard Dick's voice beside him.

“...ly? Wally, it was just a nightmare. Breathe, you're okay,” Dick murmured as his hand slipped from Wally's shoulder and over his back, smoothing up and down the bare skin. Wally was covered in a light sheen of sweat, could feel it dripping between his shoulder blades, but Dick didn't seem to care. He rubbed circles along Wally's spine and continued to talk him down. “You're alright. It was just a nightmare, baby-”

“I _know,_ ” Wally snapped. The moment he spoke, he could taste his words, like metal between his teeth, and he couldn't swallow. Shoving himself completely upright, Wally pushed his legs over the side of the bed. He cursed under his breath as the sheets tangled between his legs, kicking himself free until he could stand up and storm off to the bathroom.

He turned the bathroom light on and immediately regretted it. The florescent bulbs pierced through his eyelids as he closed his eyes to shield himself from the light. Stumbling his way over to the sink, he fumbled with the tap until the cold water began to rush from the faucet. Wally cupped his hands under the flow and splashed the water over his face. He scrubbed his palms over his skin and combed his fingers back through his hair until the ends dripped. When he finally turned the water off, the bathroom was silent. The only sound was his own breathing as he slowly began to calm down, each breath evening out over time – and, although he knew it wasn't a real noise, the rapid pulse of his heart thrumming in his ears.

Wally braced his hands on the edge of the counter, leaning forward until his head hung between his shoulders. That was the sixth time he'd woken up like that since the “Watchtower Incident”. It'd only been four days.

That night was still visceral in his memory. It'd taken an hour for Wally to calm down, and another hour for him to find the courage to leave that quiet little room. To say he felt humiliated when he finally stepped out and faced his friends was a gross understatement. They didn't say anything about his breakdown, They were all too kind for that, too used to the kind of work that left their friends and comrades with hearts as heavy as their heads.

Artemis had apparently been the one to recognize that he was having a panic attack. Wally couldn't remember much of what had happened, only the binding fear that had seized his body. Dick told him later that she'd spoken up while he was trying to calm him down, and while the others had wanted to help, Dick had known Wally needed to be somewhere he had space to breathe.

So, when he'd come out, looking a little pale and more than a little exhausted, the others had been understanding. They gave Wally his space, made small talk, and within a few minutes M'gann had prepped the bioship to take them back to Earth. Understandably, Wally hadn't been in the mood for too much company, but he appreciated their understanding. On the trip back down, aside from Wally softly arguing Dick out of taking a sick day off work to stay home with him the next day, they didn't say much. Dick had tried to bring it up again when they walked into their dark apartment, but Wally had (sharply) turned him down.

And Wally had pretty much been a Royal Ass to Dick ever since. Whether it was the fear tying knots in his throat every night or the lack of sleep or the anger that he had no control over it all, Wally had been irritable and short tempered for the past few days. The worst part was that it didn't _matter_. It didn't matter if he was tired or pissed off, because he didn't have any right to take it out on Dick. But here he was, on his way to earning himself the title of “Biggest Asshole of All Time”. Fine, maybe that was a little harsh, but it certainly felt like it.

Steadying himself with one more deep breath and slow exhale, Wally pushed himself off the counter and stood upright. Hand smoothing over the wall as he passed the threshold, he shut the bathroom light off and stepped back into the bedroom. It took a moment for him to notice as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, almost until he reached the bed again, but Dick wasn't there. The blankets on his side of the bed had been pushed back, and the mattress was vacant. Wally felt guilt settle over his back with the weight of a meteor.

The gentle clatter of movement in the kitchen drew Wally's attention to the bedroom door. Through the crack, he could just barely see a shadow cutting through the light pooling on the floor. Wally pushed the door open. Dick was in the kitchen, filling a tall glass with ice and cold water. He looked up when Wally reappeared – didn't say anything just yet though, just pushed the glass toward him from across the counter.

Wally dragged himself over to the edge of the counter, but couldn't bring himself to touch the glass. He sighed, the exhale shaking his entire frame as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. “Dick, I'm sorry,” he muttered as he lifted his gaze to catch his partner's.

Again, Dick didn't say anything. Leaning forward against the opposite side of the counter, Dick looked Wally in the eyes for a long moment. Dick was tired, Wally could tell. He was frustrated. Who wouldn't be? Patient as Dick was, he was only human. Finally, Dick rounded the counter, closing the distance between them. Slipping a hand over Wally's bare side, he pulled him in for a soft, short kiss. Wally draped his arms around Dick's shoulders, deciding rather quickly that one kiss was not enough. Dick, thankfully, didn't seem to mind. He held Wally a little closer, opened his mouth to him. Wally felt more safe and grounded in that dark little apartment than he had in days.

When they parted, Dick pressed his forehead against Wally's. “S'fine, baby,” he finally replied. “I get it. You okay now?”

Baby. Wally heard that simple word and his guilt became that much heavier. They were a Babe couple, that's always been what they'd called each other. Baby was saved for special occasions. When they needed to hear that one extra syllable, that half-second longer, to know that the other was there with them. Dick had been calling him Baby a lot lately.

Wally nuzzled his forehead against Dick's, closing his eyes as he focused on the cozy material of his partner's Jersey knit shirt against his own bare chest. “Mhm,” he hummed.

Dick was quiet again for another long moment, just letting Wally absorb the silence. “You're not going to be able to get back to sleep, are you?” he asked.

Now it was Wally's turn to not reply. All he could manage was to shake his head. He wouldn't be able to get back to sleep. He'd tried that a few times the first night back from the Watchtower and he just kept waking from nightmares until he gave up.

Dick seemed to deliberate for a moment. Then, without any other warning, he stepped out of Wally's hold and headed into the bedroom. Wally was stunned still until he heard Dick rummaging around through drawers. He made his way over to the doorway, only to be greeted with a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and his brown jacket thrown into his face. He just barely managed to catch it. By the time he looked up, Dick was already stripping out of his sweatpants and into his own jeans. “Uh... Dick? What-”

“If you're not going back to sleep,” Dick grunted as he pulled a sweater over his head, “then we might as well go out and do something. Better than sitting here until morning.”

Wally stared down at the pile of clothes in his arms, a deep, unintelligible dread rising up in his chest. “You could still sleep,” he pointed out.

Dick shrugged. “But you won't.”

Wally groaned, dropping the clothes on the floor. “Dick, I _really_ don't fucking want to just-”

Dick stood upright. Fast. His eyes narrowed and his brows raised, throwing Wally's sour attitude right back at him. Wally was, to be honest, a little caught off guard, but he supposed that was the point. He got the point, anyway. He was being miserable. Averting his gaze, Wally bent down to pick up his clothes again. When he stood, Dick had crossed the room and laid a light hand on his shoulder, mindful of what had happened the last time.

“Hey,” Dick murmured, “we'll go down the block for something to eat and come right back. I mean it, some fresh air will do you good.”

He was right, and Wally knew it. Staying in the apartment and just waiting for the sun to come up so he could drag himself to the Labs on a few meager hours of sleep would only make him more irritable, which would in turn make him tense, which would in tern give him another nightmare, and the cycle would continue. Going out in the middle of night likely wouldn't solve all of his problems, but it was a better alternative.

Wally pecked Dick on the lips in passing, a silent apology as he crossed into the bedroom to get changed. Dick had just enough time to kiss him back as he stepped out of the room to find his keys and wallet.

Within five minutes, they were walking out of the lobby of their apartment building and into the humid night. The air was warm, but a crisp breeze was gusting in from the bay. Bludhaven wasn't exactly the best place for a midnight stroll, but they were far enough from downtown to avoid trouble, and of course they felt pretty confident they could handle themselves. Their walk was silent, but not uncomfortable, the two of them just walking side by side in a companionable quiet.

They ended up at a 24hr Bagel place, “Kettleman's”. The exposed red brick and massive wood oven made it a cozy atmosphere, and a favourite for Bludhaven residents looking for a midnight snack. Patrons ranged from students trying to pull an all-nighter for exams, people stumbling back from long nights of bar hopping and, like them for the night, insomniacs looking for a change in scenery. Despite the range of guests, it was always a quiet, comfortable place to escape to. Dick and Wally stood in line behind a couple of Pubcrawlers, scanning the menu written in chalk above the counter.

“Can't decide if I want a bagel with sandwich fillings or one with cream cheese,” Dick leaned toward Wally to murmur under his breath. “Is dinner or breakfast food more appropriate at this time of the night?”

Wally shrugged, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. “I mean, any bagel is typically a breakfast food, even if you put dinner stuff on it. Besides, meals are just a social construct when you're hungry all the time. There's no rules.”

“You're right,” Dick smirked, “I'm not gonna let “The Man” tell me when I can and cannot eat a bagel.”

Wally snorted, ducking his head and pushing his face against Dick's shoulder just to keep from laughing too loud. After a few minutes of waiting for the people in front of them to decipher the menu and pick something, they ordered their food, and were given a small buzzer. They walked to a secluded table out on the closed in “patio”, a space with floor to ceiling windows that rolled up in the summer to let air in, and sat down across from each other. Dick had gotten some weird flavour of kombucha, and Wally had picked out a chocolate milk.

Outside, a few spare cars rolled down the streets, but otherwise the traffic lights changed colours with no one to watch or obey them. Two cycles of red, yellow, and green shining in through the open window passed before Dick finally spoke again.

“So,” he began tentatively, “are we going to talk about it?”

Wally pursed his lips. Reaching across the table, he took the metal top of his kombucha bottle. He clicked the centre a few times, just to have something to fidget with. Dick usually got on him about that when they were out, but tonight, he let him be. Maybe he recognized the need to let go of some excess nervous energy, or maybe he was too tired to say anything. Either way, Wally appreciated it. Still... “Don't think so,” he mumbled. There was no malice in his voice, no sharp tone or snapped reply. Just exhaustion.

The buzzer lit up with flashing red lights and vibrated on the metal table before he could elaborate anyway. Wally took it and stood, heading back into the main restaurant to get their food. He didn't look back at Dick as he left. Couldn't really bring himself to. He stood at the counter, tapping the buzzer against his palm as he waited for an employee on the other side of the counter to bring him a tray with their food. He traded in the buzzer for the tray, and pushed his back against the swinging door to go back to the patio.

He stopped in the doorway. Dick was sitting alone at their booth, arms folded on the dull surface of the table, staring out the window. He'd opened it a bit in Wally's absence, pushing the glass up just enough to let a midnight breeze rolled in. The fresh air played with the edge of his hair. Green light changed to yellow, catching on the angles of his face. As it switched to red, the warm colour glowed over his skin. The contrasting light made the blue of his eyes shine that much brighter. His expression was soft, pensive as he watched the desolate street outside.

Wally didn't often have moments like this. When it came to him and Dick – they'd been together for so long, even with his time away. Together, they were as natural as breathing. Their intimacy was second nature. He knew he loved Dick. He never really stopped to think about it, because he was too busy just feeling it. But when he did slow down... he looked at Dick and realized that if he asked for the moon, he'd pull it out of orbit. He'd always known he loved Dick, but sometimes he startled even himself with how much he was _in love with him_. The light turned green again. Wally swallowed, and carried the tray to their table. This time, he sat beside Dick.

Taking Dick's bagel off the tray, he slid it toward his partner, and unwrapped one of his own. He took in a slow, trembling breath as he gathered his thoughts. “They're always just about the Speed Force, y'know?” he began in a quiet voice. “Nothing happens, it's all just noise and void, like I'm right back in there. I wake up, and I can't tell if I ever really left. If all of this...” he stopped, his throat tightening. Dick wordlessly reached out and laid his hand over Wally's. Wally turn his hand over in Dick's hold, lacing their fingers together with a tight squeeze. “If all of this was just some twisted illusion. Like I made all of it up just to cope.” Bringing their joined hands up to his mouth, Wally kissed over Dick's knuckles. “And I've been nothing but a complete jackass to you.”

When Wally finally looked Dick in the eyes again, his gaze was tender. Dick unlaced their fingers, using his freed hand to caress over Wally's cheek and rest on the side of his head. “Walls, I understand,” he replied. “I mean, I'm not going to pretend that it's been sunshine and roses these past few days, but I _understand_. I'm not going to hold it against you.”

Wally shamelessly leaned his head into Dick's hand. “Just feels like I can't _do_ anything about all this,” he mumbled.

“We'll work it out. I can't say it'll get easier over time, because I don't know _,_ but... we'll figure out how to _deal_ with it either way. There's just...” he trailed off, his thumb swiping over Wally's cheek bone, “some things you can't always control.”

Wally nodded raising his hand to rest over Dick's against his face. “Guess that's why I was so excited at first. Name and costumes... those are things I can control. I can't control how fucked in the head I am,” he attempted to laugh. It came out dry from the back of his throat.

“Hey,” Dick said with a stern glower. “None of that. You can't control what happened, and you can't control how it's affecting you. That's it. Like I said, we'll deal with it, okay?” Dick lowered his hand onto the table, letting Wally's come down with it. “Maybe...” he murmured as he looked down at their hands, “maybe this is just too early to-”

“No,” Wally shook his head, immediately catching where he was going with this. “I mean it, I'm ready to get back on the field. I want this. I want to be out there.”

Dick raised his eyes. The traffic light changed from green to yellow once again. The world outside the window continued to turn on quietly. “Okay,” Dick sighed. His expression lightened, offering his partner a tired smile as he let go of Wally's hand in favour of elbowing him in the side. “Now eat your bagel.”

Wally laughed, and although the sound was hollow and quiet, unable to pierce the cozy atmosphere of the diner, it was no less genuine. “Alright, alright,” he shook his head as he elbowed Dick in return. Picking up his bagel, he took a few bites. His stomach growled the moment he started eating, prompting a muffled laugh out of Dick, who covered his hand with his mouth as he struggled to chew without choking. Wally retaliated by leaning over to taking a bite out of Dick's bagel while the other man was otherwise incapacitated. Dick then stole a swing of Wally's chocolate milk. At that point, Wally surrendered – settling the score wasn't worth having to drink Kombucha.

Several bagels and conversations drifting between work and friends and anywhere _but_ Wally's struggles later, and they were stepping out onto the midnight streets of Bludhaven. The city was just as they had left it, desolate and sleepy, with lights cycling on regardless of anyone being there to watch. As they turned onto the sidewalk and started back toward their apartment, Wally slipped his hand into Dick's.

“Hey,” he said. “Thank you, for dragging me out here. You were right, the fresh air was good.”

“I'm right _sometimes_ ,” Dick replied with a cheeky grin as he tangled their fingers together. Despite his teasing, his gaze was sincere, just glad that Wally was at least feeling a bit better. That was enough.

“Yeah, don't let it go to your head,” Wally chuckled.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Wally didn't feel so much like he was hitting the wall anymore. That should have been a good thing,. The exhaustion didn't hit him with the force of a meteor, he didn't suddenly feel like his muscles were liquefying off his bones, the air didn't burn in his lungs as he pushed himself harder. No, it was more like he'd been standing at the wall for the past two weeks. He'd been banging his head against it all this time, unable to move back or forward. He didn't have the force to knock the breath from himself, or the energy to break through it. Whether it was sleep deprivation or the mess in his own head, he didn't know, but the frustration was starting to take a physical tole on his body.

The fact that he was getting his ass handed to him by his cousin was likely, also, a contribution.

Wally skidded across the floor of the Star Labs track, hand dragging on the ground as he landed in a crouch. Honestly, he was just thankful he landed on his feet at all. By the time he looked up, he saw the yellow and red burst of movement dashing toward him. Wally cursed under his breath, and it was a half second he couldn't afford. Bart was on him before he could raise his arms, kicking his bicep with edge of his ankle and foot. Wally was pushed over, just barely managing to roll to his feet before the kid was sweeping his legs out from under him. Wally fell over again, tried to brace his hands behind him and kick upwards, but Bart was gone again. Wally's leg fell to the ground. The moment he found himself lying prone on this back, Bart was grabbing him by the leg that had been balancing him upright and twisting him onto his back. Before Wally could retaliate, the kid was on top of him one hand on his neck and the other poised for a knock out strike. He didn't move, didn't need to. Wally groaned and tapped out against Bart's shoulder.

Without other coaxing, Bart rolled off and up to his feet with so much pep it made Wally's fucking teeth hurt. The kid offered Wally his hand. Laying on his back on the rough rubber tarmac, Wally struggled to catch his breath before grabbing Bart's hand and letting him pull him to his feet.

“Not bad, dude!” Bart chirped as he patted Wally's arm. The kid had definitely hit his growth spurt in the time Wally had been gone. He was still quite a few inches short of Wally, but he was far from the scrawny thirteen year old had had crash landed in their time. “Think you lasted longer that time!”

Wally had to swallow the biting reply that threatened to snap from his mouth. It wasn't the kid's fault, he was just trying to help. It wasn't his fault that his smooth attitude was sandpaper to Wally's head. “Yeah,” he grunted as he pushed his red goggles up off his eyes.

Bart patted Wally's arm again, and with a gust of wind, he was gone. Wally exhaled roughly through his nose, fists clenched at his sides. From the corner of his eyes, he watched as the blur that was his cousin stopped beside his uncle on the far side of the track. Not far from them, Dick stood at the observation table with Dr. Lee. His brow was low, eyes narrowed and mouth skewed as he looked over the replay. He knew Dick well enough to see that calculating gaze even from that distance, and he didn't like what he was calculating. Taking a moment to breathe out his aggravation as best as he could, Wally crossed the track over to the table. Dick tossed a water bottle at him, but it fumbled in Wally's unready hands and fell to the ground. Feeling tension building up between his shoulder blades, Wally huffed and picked it up. He didn't open the cap. Setting it on the table again, he pushed his hand back through his hair, wincing when it came back damp. Dick glanced between Wally and the water bottle, but otherwise didn't say anything.

“So,” Dick sighed as he stood straight from where he'd been leaning over the computer, “that... was...”

“You don't need to say it,” Wally interrupted. “That was shit.” Bart was an intense fighter, part of the apocalyptic world he grew up in. He didn't hold back, and he fought to survive. For such a scrawny guy, he was tough, but that didn't translate into even a fraction of his personality. He was being nice when he told Wally he'd done well in their spar. Wally glanced over at him and his uncle, Flash and Kid Flash, a near mirror image of his own past. He ripped his eyes away, smothering that single spark of jealousy that threatened to fan into a flame. Jealousy was ridiculous, he'd long outgrown Kid Flash, and had been happy to pass that mantel on to the kid. He deserved it, he did good with it. It was just that confidence that Wally missed.

When he looked back at Dick, he could tell that he was debating arguing with him, but resolved to let it go. He was in his police uniform, still wearing his blue bomber jacket and badge. He'd come straight from work, this training session scheduled for the evening after the rest of the Lab employees went home. Dick stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he took one last glance down at the monitors. Wally didn't even want to see them.

“It's been better, I won't lie,” Dick conceded as he crossed over to the other side of the table. Dr. Lee had been quiet throughout most of the evening, taking endless notes from the monitors with a firm gaze. Wally _really_ didn't want to see what was on those monitors. Dick leaned back against the table, hands still in his pockets. “Call it a day? We could still pick up so-”

“I want to keep going,” Wally grumbled.

Dick's face dropped, exasperation sharpening his features as he stood upright. “Wally-”

Wally turned on his heel and headed back toward the track. “I said I want to keep going. I'm fine.” By the time he walked out onto the track and stopped to look over his shoulder, Dick hadn't moved. Wally found himself in a bit of a standoff with his partner, the both of them just staring back at one another.

Finally, Dick sighed, scratched the back of his head, and returned to the other side of the table. “Alright,” he said. “Lets try a run, alright? Break things up a bit.”

Albeit reluctantly, Wally nodded. He couldn't help the nagging feeling that Dick was trying to go easy on him, steering him away from more fight practice. It was a constant pinching at the back of his neck, a parasite that brought him ugly thoughts. Even worse was the fact that the parasite sometimes told him he was being coddled because he wasn't good enough. He was broken and unfixable. Wally shook his head as he took his place on the track in a low running stance. He pulled his goggles down over his face. Off to the side, he vaguely heard Dick counting down, but he tuned it out. He tuned everything out, eyes fixed on the set of red, yellow, and green lights set up on the far end of the track. These weren't traffic lights. They started on red and went backwards to green, meant to give the subject speedster utilizing it time to prepare.

Wally ran on yellow.

Faster than the blink of an eye, the world around him merged into a maelstrom of passing shapes and colours. He leaned his body into the well memorized angle of the track, running at a speed he knew only his uncle and cousin could even try to see. In his head, he knew that he'd probably circled the track fifty times before Dick and Dr. Lee had even looked down at the monitors. In his head, it felt like he had cinder-blocks tied to his feet. The contradictions fighting his rationality created chaos in his mind, taking him out of the moment. He was just _running_ _around in circles_ it shouldn't have been so fucking hard. It wasn't even one thought caught in a berating loop that kept him from just concentrating on running. It was a thousand thoughts at once, at the same volume, melding into one white noise that rang in his ears, vibrated in his skull bone all the way down his spine and into his chest, building and building until he could feel that searing hot coil tightening between his ribs and burning his lungs. Something inside him surged.

It felt like a car crash. One second Wally was running, and the next there was noise and pain and he couldn't tell his head from his feet. The world didn't slow down so much as it just stopped. Wally was speeding through light and colours and then he was on his side, staring at the tarmac with everything else out of focus and blurry. There was shouting behind him, he knew, but he couldn't hear the words over the insistent white noise of his own chaotic thoughts – most of which consisted of swearing and _“can't breathe, can't breathe, can't breathe”._ Through it all, his heart raced in a jagged pace, like it'd been hooked up to a car battery and thrown into a tub of water. Wally curled in on himself, clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, clutching at his heart.

The pain didn't last forever. It felt like it might, but it didn't. There were hands on his shoulders, rolling him onto his back, and by the time a pair of sprinting footsteps reached him, the worst of it ebbed away, leaving behind a static ache.

“Wally? Come on, Kid. Talk to me,” Barry's voice came into focus as he hovered over him. Wally groaned, finally cracking his eyes open to see his uncle staring down at him with an upward pull in his brow. His cowl had been pushed back, revealing blonde hair and blue eyes shining with worry for his nephew.

“Is it his heart? It looks like his heart. Should we call somebody?” Bart rambled from beside his grandfather as he pushed back his own yellow mask.

Barry said something. Wally couldn't make anything of the words, just saw him shake his head and mouth something to Bart. Whatever they were saying, Wally honestly didn't care. He probably should have, but he didn't. Not when he saw Dick skidding down to his knees on his other side, eyes wild and panicked as he took in the damage.

“Wally? Hey, look at me,” Dick rushed, his voice tight, breaking with vivid fear. His fingers came up to ghost along the side of Wally's face, and for the first time, Wally became aware of the fact that his face _really_ fucking hurt. The fact that Dick's fingertips came away with a light smear of blood clued him in. Must have skidded face down when he crashed. Perfect. Wally winced away from the touch, the movement in his facial muscles only making the agony worse. Dick didn't touch his face again, in favour of resting his hand over Wally's where it was still clutched to his chest. “What- fuck, what happened? Are you okay?” When Wally didn't respond fast enough for his liking, Dick turned toward Dr. Lee, who was standing behind him. “Call Dr. Leslie Thompson at Gotham Free Clinic, I have her number in Wally's medical file- ”

“M'fine,” Wally grunted, the dread of having to go to the hospital bringing him to his senses enough to finally respond. He shrugged off Barry's hands, pushing himself upright on unsteady arms.

Dick's attention snapped back down to Wally, hands immediately reaching out to his partner's back to help him up. “No, you're _really_ not-”

“I said I'm _fine_ ,” Wally snarled, turning an exhausted glare up toward Dick. He shrugged off Dick's hands the same way he did to Barry. Forcing himself steady, Wally pushed through aching bones and protesting muscles until he was standing up, hunched over but otherwise stable.

Dick was quick to jump to his feet after him, hands hovering out in front of him in case Wally toppled over. “Wally, you just wiped out across half the track. At least let us clean you up-”

“No,” Wally shook his head.,“I want to keep going.” The pain in his chest was diminishing with each beat of his heart, to the point that he was beginning to wonder if it had ever really been there at all. The uncertainty only fanned his simmering anger. “What was next? Sparring?” he asked, noticing for the first time that he was out of breath. “I want to spar.”

Dick's entire demeanor changed in that instant. His panic and concern morphed into shock, then incredulity, and finally settled on irritation. “For fuck's sake, Wally-”

Wally snapped. He could taste the regret, bitter in the back of his throat, before he even opened his mouth, but it didn't stop him. “I don't remember asking for your _goddamn_ _permission_ , Dick.”

With a rough inhale, Dick recoiled back from Wally. It wasn't a flinch, wasn't anything even betraying hurt. Whether or not he was hurt by the remark, Dick didn't let anything show. When Wally glanced back at Dick, the other's expression was completely schooled. His eyes were cold, face neutral as he regarded Wally. Without another word, Dick turned his back on him and began to walk with a straight pace toward the observation table.

Wally felt his stomach plummet to the floor as his own frustration reverberated back to him. “Dick-”

“Okay,” Dick cut him off. Stopping at the table, back still stiff and turned, Dick shed his dark blue police jacket and laid it neatly on the back of a chair. His hands raised to his collar, pulling off his tie, soon followed by the leather holsters that carried his gun, taser, and other equipment. Most of it had been left back at the precinct, on protocol, but Wally still spied Dick's baton being set aside. Dick was slow, deliberate in undoing the buttons of his white shirt. Folding the clothes with crisp precision, taking all the time he needed, Dick finally faced Wally again. Left in a white undershirt and his navy pants, Dick crossed to the middle of the track, where the ground was padded with the soft material of a gymnasium floor.

The tension in the atmosphere was suffocating. Wally watched Dick, internally debating whether he had a concussion of or his partner was really just this confusion. He licked his lips, wincing when his tongue touched blood at the corner of his mouth. “What?”

“I said okay,” Dick shrugged. “We'll keep going. You can spar if you want. But you're going to spar with me.”

Wally rolled his eyes, shoulders dropping. “Dick, I'm not fighting you.”

“You're going to spar with me,” Dick repeated. “If you're so sure you're fine, it should be no problem. You win, we keep going. I win, we stop. Fair enough, right?”

It wasn't fair. Wally had his speed. Dick didn't even have his escrima sticks, not a single weapon or piece of armour on hand. In spite of what should have been an obvious advantage, Wally looked at Dick and felt that the uneven ground was tilted in Dick's favour. Feeling his pride threatening to fracture, Wally nodded and walked toward Dick at the centre of the track. He just barely caught sight of Barry trying to reach out to stop him from the edge of his vision, his hand falling short of Wally's shoulder. “Alright,” Wally said.

They didn't want to hurt each other. God, no. No matter how angry they were with one another, this wasn't about _fighting._ They'd sparred together hundreds of times in the past, knew how it worked, how to pull punches and score contact without actually aiming to injure. While sparring angry probably wasn't the best or most proactive course of action at the moment, hurting one another wasn't in the equation. Wally took his stance across from Dick. Dick looked to Dr. Lee, who had walked back to the observation table. Dr. Lee nodded back and raised her hand in the air. Dick didn't move into his own fighting stance. Wally didn't know what the hell that was supposed to mean, but it had him clenching his fists.

“On my count, then,” Dr. Lee sighed, obviously as uncertain about this as Barry had been. “Three. Two. One.”

Dick closed his eyes. Wally moved. Shooting forward at lightning speed, Wally ran toward Dick grabbing onto one arm and spinning him around to grab the other. If he could end this quickly, he could make his point and they could move on. That was the only thing he had on his mind when he moved to restrain and incapacitate his partner. So, it should have been unsurprising when he didn't noticed that Dick wasn't fighting back. Wally had used this move countless times before to pin his opponents, and even at his speed, he felt some kind of tension in their muscles.

Dick was placid. He was letting this happen. By the time Wally realized that, it was too late.

That single moment of self doubt slowed him down, and before he could retaliate, Dick was kicking up off the ground and using Wally's hold on his arms as leverage to flip up and over him. Wally was left crashing onto his back, the wind knocked from his lungs through the impact between his shoulders. Dick twisted his hands out of Wally's grip in mid air, landing in a perfect crouch above the speedster.

Wally gritted his teeth. Striking out with his feet, he tried to land a kick, but Dick caught him by the ankle and reversed the momentum to send him flying backwards over himself. In a a much less graceful landing, Wally sprung up, tried to punch. Dick blocked him him his forearm, opening him up to a blow to his abdomen. Again, it was just bare contact, pulled at the last second with practiced precision, but it was still enough to send Wally stumbling back.

Every blow Wally tried to score, Dick beat him to it. He couldn't even think fast enough to use his full speed. Dick wasn't out-maneuvering him, he was out-thinking him, anticipating every movement before Wally made it. He wasn't aiming to attack. Wally realizing fairly soon that Dick was trying to exhaust him. And it was working. One slip up on a high kick, and Dick was suddenly ducking down, spinning in a crouch with his leg out to sweep Wally off his feet. Within half a second, Dick was on top of him, Wally's arms pinning up high behind his back, chest to the mat. Even furious as he was, Dick had the control to pin him so the scrapped side of his face didn't touch the ground. Depleted of breath and will to fight back, Wally finally went lax and gave in.

Dick held him there. Wally wouldn't tap out. Finally recognizing a lost cause, Dick pushed off of Wally and stood up. Wally coughed, bracing himself up on his forearms as he caught his breath. By the time he looked up, all he could see was the back of Dick's calves as he walked away. With a forced calm, Dick gathered his police uniform and walked toward the exit. “Hit the showers.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emotional whiplash (ft. bagels). 
> 
> Comment to feed a starving artist's desperate need for validation. Follow me at the links below for the equvilant of finding me in a broom closet sobbing over a stick figure drawing of The Boys™
> 
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	4. Stand back up and be a Man about it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Dick's turn to be a dick.
> 
>  

 

 

The lights were off. Wally came home to a dark apartment. One single crease of light shone from the bottom of the closed bathroom door. The muffled sound of running water was the only noise to fill the otherwise silent space. Wally dragged himself through the front door, shutting it quietly behind him. For a long moment, he found himself just standing on the doormat, listening to the shower. His body ached with every movement, muscles sore and mind exhausted. A crumpled piece of paper dropped from his limp fingers and bounced lightly onto the floor.

_Took a walk. See you at home. -Dick._

Slipping his dufflebag off his shoulder with a wince, Wally slowly took off his shoes and limped his way over to the couch. He sat back with a groan. He'd showered at the Lab, took his time under the stream of cool water to calm down, even his breathing, clear his head. When he had come out, he'd found the note, torn off the edge of a piece of notebook paper, stuck to his locker. He'd probably stared blankly at it for five minutes before plucking it off his locker door and getting changed.

He walked home. The long way. Bludhaven was thrumming with activity, music, voices, and distant sirens as the sun set over the bay. It'd been a gorgeous evening. Wally had walked the streets, struggling not to groan with every step. He'd felt oddly separated from the life of the city, the brassy light thrown out by street lamps against the softly darkening sky, like he wasn't really there. Just watching. He'd thought about picking up something for dinner, an apology pizza or something, but the thought of eating anything, for once in his life, made his stomach churn.

Now, sitting in the blue darkness of his apartment, Wally realized that it wasn't just the thought of food that had made him feel ill. That argument and spar with Dick was replaying over and over in his head in an obsessive loop. Leaning forward on the couch, he rested his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands a moment. Giving him a wicked headache, too. Scrubbing his hand down the uninjured side of his face, Wally looked around the apartment, finding himself at a loss for what to do. Didn't feel right to turn the TV on. Going on his phone or laptop to kill time until Dick came out of the shower only seemed dismissive. Just sitting here and waiting for the inevitable confrontation was going to put him in a tailspin. Wally's eyes trailed around the apartment, landing on the dimmed screen of Dick's laptop on the desk against the opposite wall. From that distance, he could just barely catch sight of a video of himself running. Probably from today's session.

Wally glanced toward the bathroom door. The water was running, and it didn't sound like Dick was going to be coming out too soon. Pushing himself off the couch with a quiet grunt, Wally padded across the room and lowered himself slowly into the desk chair. It was footage of his run at the track, slowed down and isolated so he could be seen as it ran. Dick had one portion of the footage highlighted and playing in a loop. He was running, physically struggling to keep going, Wally could see that just from the way his legs visibly wobbled with every step, his arms heavy as they pumped at his sides. His entire posture screamed exhaustion. Wally watched, entirely numb, as he ran – until the lightning started.

He thought it might be a glitch in the footage at first. Wally blinked and leaned forward, a hot flush in his chest as he watched the lightning emerge from his body and crackle around him. It was only seconds after that he screamed out in pain. There was no audio, but he threw his head back, opened his mouth with a shout, and collapsed in a pained heap, skidding across the track. All Wally remembered from that incident was the pain, a crashing sensation, and then staring at the rubber grain of the tarmac in totally shock. The video started again, and again, Wally watched the electricity burst from his body and send him to the ground. Fuck, no wonder Dick, Barry, and Bart had been so freaked out. The fact that his chest had hurt so much probably didn't help their panic either. Wally once again scrubbed his hand down the good side of his face.

The water turned off. Wally glanced over his shoulder, listening to the sound of the shower door opening and closing, wet footsteps on the bathmat, the rustle of towels. It was a few minutes before Dick came stepping out in boxers with a towel draped over his shoulders, damp hair sticking to his forehead, but even with all that warning, Wally still found that he wasn't ready. Dick stopped at the edge of the hallway and the living room. Wally stood from the desk and pushed the chair back so he could turn to face him. For a long moment, the two of them just stood there in that suffocating blue darkness, staring at each other like they were waiting for the other to burst into a tirade.

In the end, Dick only dropped his shoulders with a slow exhale. He reached up, pushing the damp hair off his forehead before jerking his head toward the bathroom. Wally followed without question, his feet moving before he even registered it. He hesitated in the threshold, watching as Dick crouched under the sink and pulled a metal case out from the cupboard. When Dick stood up again, he pointed to the countertop. “Sit.”

Wally knew enough not to argue right now. Squeezing by Dick in the limited space, he braced his hands on the edge of the counter and hoisted himself up, long legs dangling off the edge. Dick, set the case on the other side of the counter, popped the latches, and opened the lid. It wasn't exactly a typical first aid kit, not with the type of patching up Dick had to do after rough nights on patrol. From where Wally sat, he could pick out disinfectant, gauze, splints, several types of bandages and plasters, packages of sterile needles and thread, the whole works. Dick picked out the disinfectant, a clean hand towel and some ointment, and set them aside. Running the towel under the faucet, he wrung it out and left the water on a gentle, dripping stream.

Dick moved in front of Wally and reached up with the edge of the towel. He dabbed it against Wally's cheek bone, rolling his eyes when Wally winced and pulled back. “Don't be a baby. Doesn't hurt that bad,” he said quietly. Regardless of his admonishing, he applied less pressure, his other hand holding Wally's chin between his forefinger and thumb.

“ _You_ don't be a baby,” Wally was quick to retort with the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Dick stopped, looking at Wally like he didn't want to laugh. They both knew that short breath from his nose was a sorry attempt at holding it back. “Just hold still,” Dick shook his head as he continued.

Wally wasn't about to push his luck. He stayed still as Dick cleaned him up, trying not to flinch when the cloth touched a tender patch. To be honest, the abrasions on his face had already begun to heal by then, but the blood had dried, and it was sore, and – it was best to just let Dick do this. So, he stayed still; closed his eyes, listened to the soft drip of the water, Dick's even breathing in his ear, the rustle of the fabric as Dick dabbed it against his skin. Even despite his earlier frustration, this comforting solitude, just the two of them in the quiet bathroom, had warmth spreading from the crown of his head and down his shoulders.

Dick ran the towel under the water again, wringing out the blood until the water ran from pink to clear. He used a clean end, and poured a bit of disinfectant onto it. “This is gonna sting a bit,” Dick whispered. Neither of them were strangers to the joys of disinfectant on tender wounds, but the warning was always appreciated.

Wally nodded, knuckles going white on the edges of the counter as his grip tightened. He hissed as Dick touched the towel to his face again, but didn't move away. Tensing up, he held his breath until Dick was finished cleaning him off. Finally, the towel was set down, and Dick popped the cap off the ointment bottle. Squeezing a dollop onto the palm of his hand, Dick swiped two fingers into it and smeared the ointment carefully over Wally's abrasions. Wally instantly relaxed, the cooling, numbing sensation easing the pain.

Dick finished by securing a few patches of gauze over the wounds, careful not to put any of the white medical tape over the tender skin. It would be healed and completely disappeared within a few days, with the combination of Wally's fast healing and the high grade ointment, but it didn't hurt to be careful.  Dick stepped away to put everything back into the case, and toss the towel into the laundry basket. The moment he moved back, Wally was pushing his forehead against Dick's chest. Dick, caught off guard, stood still, arms slightly out at his sides. As soon as he relaxed, arms draping loosely around Wally's back.

“Dick...” Wally croaked, his voice breaking with emotion. Couldn't even continue.

Still, Dick nodded. Wally couldn't see it, but he could feel movement, hear the low hum in Dick's chest.  That wasn't okay. Nothing that had happened at the lab was okay. Dick rubbed his hand between Wally's shoulders, smoothing in circles up and down his back. Wally nearly groaned, nuzzling the good side of his face against his partner. Dick had used Wally's Old Spice body wash. Smelled better on him. For a long while, they just stayed like that, with only the sound of their own breathing, the brushing of fabric, and the drip of the sink to fill the silence.

Dick slipped his hands over Wally's shoulders, one staying there to coax Wally upright, while the other slid down and rested over his heart. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

Wally's hand came up to overlap Dick's. “Fine,” he answered. “A little sore. Chest kinda hurts.”

Dick nodded, stepping away to reach around Wally and pulled the medicine cabinet open. He pulled down a bottle of antacids, and set them beside Wally. They were technically for heartburn, but they'd found years ago when his powers started acting up that the alkaline ions helped to neutralize them, if only for a bit of relief. Dick placed his hand on Wally's knee with a light squeeze. “I've gotta get ready,” he said before walking out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

Wally lowered himself off the edge of the counter. Taking the cap off the bottle, he poured an antacid tablet into his hand and popped it into his mouth. He shivered a bit at the artificial cherry flavour as he chewed. “You going on patrol?” he asked.

He could hear the sound of Dick pulling open the secret compartment at the back of their closet to pull out his uniform. “Yeah,” Dick called from the other room. “Tim has a lead on that trafficking case. Bruce wants us to sweep from the old tunnel system to the docks.”

Wally didn't reply. They were stumbling through conversation, on awkward footing with each other. The tension was making it hard to breathe. Wally crossed the apartment into the living room, heading straight for the window and opening it up. Fresh air rushed in, blowing through the curtains in a short burst. The night was cooling off, on the windier side at least. Wally stood there with his hands on the top of the window, leaning his face into the open space.

“Babe,” Dick called from down the hall as he headed toward him, “close the window, it's already cold in here.” He leaned around the corner, halfway in his Nightwing uniform. He had the main suit on, and was just struggling with the clasps on his gloves.

Wally looked back at him from over his shoulder. “Uh- yeah, I just...”

He wondered what he looked like in that moment. He could only imagine. Aside from the gauze patched from his temple to his jaw. Wally knew that his face felt hot, and it wasn't from the ointment. His breathing as a little shallow, barely noticeable to anyone else – Dick wasn't just anyone else. Wally could see the change in his eyes, that quick flicker over his body – always the detective.

Dick nodded. “It's fine. Leave it open if you want,” he said as he headed back into the bedroom for the rest of his things.

Leaning onto his arms with his head hanging between his shoulders, Wally took a few minutes to stand in the flow of cool air, feeling it flood his chest and calm the white hot guilt burning through his ribs. When finally he felt like the furnace in his gut was calming, he stood and headed into the bedroom. Leaning against the door frame, he pushed his hand back through his hair and watched as Dick finished getting ready.

“Dick,” he started slowly, “listen, I... that wasn't me. I mean, it's me right now, and I hate that. I'm trying, but...” Fuck, he couldn't get this out right. Couldn't find the right words. At this point, he wasn't sure if there _were_ any right words. All he could do was try to make it right. Wally swallowed and started over again. “Next time won't be like that,” he vowed.

Dick stopped. He'd been in the middle of fastening his escrima sticks to his back. His hands stilled a moment, before finally clicking the weapons into place. He turned his focus to putting on his utility belt with a touch more force than necessary. “There isn't going to be a next time,” he said as the clasps on the belt slid into place and locked in. “Not for a while anyway.”

Wally, in all honesty, wasn't sure how to react to that at first. The words hit him with a sharp sting in the back of his head, but it left him dazed, confused. He frowned, mouth tightening into a firm line. “What?”

Dick didn't turn to face him. “I was right, Wally. It's too early to be putting you back on the field,” he said as he continued to suit up.

Wally's shoulders tensed, hands balling into fists at his side as he pushed off the door frame. “Thought that was what the 'training' was for,” he said slowly through clenched teeth.

“Yeah,” Dick snapped as he finally turned to face him, “and look at how _that's_ turned out. Listen, we'll just - give it another few months and then try again.”

Wally scoffed. “So what?” he threw his arms out at his sides. “You just _decided_ this?”

Dick rolled his eyes, grabbing his mask off the dresser. He walked toward the door – Wally wouldn't move. Neither said a word in the stand-off that ensued, until Dick finally angled himself past Wally to slip through the door and talk out into the hallway. “Don't make this personal, Wally.”

Unwilling to let this go, Wally followed Dick out of the bedroom. This wasn't the same anger that had been flaring up in searing bursts, rushing out in snapped words and frustration fueled actions. No, this fury boiled in the pit of his stomach, slow and venomous. Wally could already taste it between his teeth. “How the hell am I not supposed to make it personal?” he seethed. “This isn't your decision to make, Dick! You can't just-”

“I know you hate this,” Dick interrupted, turning sharply on his heel to face Wally, “but I _can_.” Wally nearly stumbled to a hault before walking straight into Dick, caught off guard by his abrupt stop and harsh words. Dick continued unperturbed, his eyes almost glowing with the moonlight streaming in from the living room window. “It's my job to clear you for active duty. And I don't mean just because I'm your partner, it's my _literal_ job with the League to clear you, and I _can't_ clear you like this. The nightmares and outbursts have been getting worse ever since we started this, your powers are unstable, and you won't listen to reason. You're _not_ ready,” he hissed. Raising his hand to his face, Dick put his mask in place over his eyes.

When his hand came down, Wally was left looking at an entirely different person. The first thought that came to mind was that Dick looked like Bruce – no, not like Bruce, like _Batman_. The dark impressions of the mask deepening his scowl, the lenses hiding the blue of his eyes, the sharp angles, they all accumulated in the same effect as the infamous cowl. Wally could have said it out loud. He wanted to. That venom boiling in his gut was bubbling over, burning up his chest, and he wanted to spit it out. In the end, he couldn't do that. Even he knew when an argument was going too far. Wally swallowed that venom down and felt the acid sear his throat on the way down.

Dick turned away from him. He walked to the window, already open with the curtains swaying all too gently in the midnight breeze, and crouched onto the sill.

Wally, still frozen in place at the other end of the living room, finally spoke. “I can do this, Dick,” he said, tone almost pleading.

Dick stopped. His shoulders dropped, head dipping down. Wally didn't need to see his face to know what it looked like; softened, pursed lips, eyes cast downward. He could almost see the pull in the edges of his mask as he closed his eyes for a moment. “I know you can,” Dick confessed as he turned back to look at Wally, still halfway out the window. “ _Believe me_ , I know. Wally, when you're out there, you're one of the best there is, I mean that. I know you _can_ do it, but the fact of the matter is that right now you're _not_. I'm sorry.”

Stepping out onto the fire escape, Dick climbed up onto the rail. Wally wasn't finished yet. “Dick,” he called out.

Dick didn't respond.

Wally stepped forward. “ _Dick_.”

Dick leapt off from the rail, arms spread wide as he jumped into an elegant free fall. Wally ran to the window, leaning out just in time to see the grappling hook catching onto the roof of a nearby building. “Dick!” he shouted as his partner swung away. Within seconds, he'd disappeared into the towering structures of the city, swallowed whole by the night. Wally was left standing at the window, hands braced on the sill, watching an empty sky.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

The next week was, to put it mildly, hell. Wally slept with the bedroom door locked that night, and came out in the morning to find a mess of blankets and a shitty spare pillow left on the empty couch. Yeah, it might have been petty, but he was pissed off. To be fair, he was pretty sure Dick was too – he’d left for work without so much as a note and put the empty milk carton back in the fridge.

They couldn’t avoid each other forever of course, and it wasn’t necessarily that they wanted to, either. They lived together, and even if they were in the middle of an argument, they had to make that work. So, they tried; slept in the same bed every night, starting off curled up on opposite sides and finding themselves in a tangle of limbs and lose embraces the next morning. Whoever got home from work first would whip up dinner, they’d sit at the table, or on the couch, and eat together with tense small talk about their day. And after, they’d mostly just coexist in silence, doing paper work or watching TV. To be honest, with the exception of the thick air between them, it wasn’t too different from any normal weeknight.

But then Dick would suit up for patrol, and that thick air would become suffocating. As soon as Wally heard that compartment open in their closet and the tell-tale sounds of Dick putting on his costume, he’d find some convenient excuse to go out for a walk, or put his headphones on and tune the world out. Dick would leave through the window without a second glance back. Cold shoulder suddenly seemed like too mild an expression – it felt more like they both had a block of glacier ice frozen to their backs.

They had a sort of unspoken rule, ever since they were teenagers first starting out – no going out on patrol angry. Well, they’d never really been that good at keeping that rule.

The night before, Dick had gone out and hadn’t come home. Wally hadn’t slept well, tossing and turning most of the night until a text at 4am told him that he was crashing at the Manor. At that point, he’d only gotten about two hours of undisturbed sleep before he had to get up for work. That left him as he was now – tired, miserable, and leaving about fifty typos per page on the report he was currently attempting to finish. By the time he caught himself writing _Hardon_ Collider instead of _Hadron_ Collider, he figured it was about time for a break. He didn’t even have it in himself to laugh (and somewhere deep inside him, he could just _feel_ his 15 year old self both staring back at him in mortifying disappointment and cackling).

Closing his laptop and grabbing his wallet and phone, Wally left his desk and headed up to the cafeteria. Star Labs, for all its boring white hallways and soul sucking, windowless rooms had a pretty decent cafeteria. It was on the top floor of the building, a massive atrium of skylights, large windows and a few doors opening up to a well-groomed rooftop garden. The food was decent, mostly just kiosks of fast-food chains, but he’d never been one to complain.

It was a Subway day, Wally decided. With a foot-long beef sub, a large root beer, and a paper bag of those shitty cardboard cookies on his tray, he headed to a secluded table next to an open window. It was amazing what a little sunlight and fresh air could do to his mood. It wasn’t the same as a full night’s sleep, but it was an improvement. Settling into the plastic seat with a loud creak of its hinges, Wally picked up the first half of his sub and lifted it to his mouth.

“Hey, West!”

Fuck.

Barely smothering a groan, Wally looked up to see three of the other interns making their way over to him. They were all about a year younger than him, but had been with the lab a few months longer due to his catching up after his time as a “missing person”. Dan, Tanya, and Bindi, if he remembered their names correctly. He sat with them at lunch every once in a while, when he wasn’t bringing his food right back down to his desk because he was too absorbed in his work to take a break. They were nice people, friendly, though Wally would argue sometimes a little _too_ friendly. Right now, obviously, was one of those times.

Wally set his sub down, giving them a quick wave as they bee-lined straight for his table. “Hey, guys,” he said with a forced smile.

Tanya was the first to rush over, setting her tray of soup and salad down at the edge of the table. Wally tried to mask the hope in his eyes that they _weren’t_ going to sit with him. He’d never been an antisocial person by any means but he wasn’t exactly in the mood. “Hey!” Tanya chirped as the other two caught up behind her. “We were thinking about getting all the interns to go out together tonight, check out that new pub downtown. You in?”

“Ah,” Wally shrugged, scrubbing his hand over the back of his neck, “maybe another night, guys. Not really feeling it tonight.”

“Come on, West,” Dan grinned, looking dangerously close to setting his tray down too. “A night out will do you some good! Bring your girlfriend if you want.”

And _there it was_. Wally had to fight that almost _gravitational pull_ of his eyes wanting to roll back. “Yeah, no can do. My boyfriend is working nights this weekend, and I’ve gotta… do… taxes.”

“Oh! Well, that’s fine,” Tanya smiled to the point that Wally briefly wondered if her face hurt. “Like that’s _totally_ cool, y’know?”

Wally nodded. “Yeah, I… kinda do know,” he replied slowly.

“We’ll do another night, then,” Bindi cut in before the other two could make further asses of themselves. She rounded the table to the empty seat across from Wally. “Did you guys catch the last episode of-“

A loud rendition of The Imperial Death March played on out of tune kazoos cut her off. Wally reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone, not even needing to look at the contact info on the screen. “Sorry,” he said as he pointed to the phone. “My Mom.”

“It’s cool, we’ll leave you to it,” Dan shrugged as Tanya picked up her tray. Wally held in his relief until the trio had migrated to another table across the atrium, letting out a heavy sigh.

Answering the call, Wally brought the phone to his ear and leaned back in his chair. “Hey, Mom,” he said.

The response from his mother on the other end of the line was immediate. “Hey, honey,” Mary West replied. Wally could practically hear the smile in her voice. “Did I catch you at lunch?”

“Yeah,” Wally eyes his untouched sandwich, “just sat down. You’ve got great timing.”

“Good, good,” his mom laughed. “Well, I just wanted to call to talk for a bit. When are you and Dick thinking about coming over to Keystone next? Gary is helping me redo the deck and the backyard, but we could use a couple of strong boys to help out. We’ll pay you two in beer and a few good meals.”

Wally cast his gaze up at the ceiling at the mention of Gary – his mom’s new boyfriend. He was a good man, treated her right, but _God_ was he ever boring. “We’ll try to come visit soon,” he promised.

“Sooner,” Mary quipped. “I miss you, honey.”

“Miss you, too,” Wally smiled, eyes trailing out the window. It was cracked open a bit, just enough to let in a rolling breeze. One of the maintenance guys was working on the far end of the garden, using a weed-whacker to trim the patches of grass growing over onto the stone paths. The scent of freshly mowed grass drifted in, and for a moment, Wally was taken back to that golden afternoon as a kid, talking to his mom at the kitchen table.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to work,” Mary said. “Let me know when you can come visit, I-”

“Hey, Mom?” Wally interrupted before she could say goodbye. Pushing out of his seat, Wally wandered over to the door leading out to the garden. The moment he stepped outside, he felt the change in the air, the sun on his skin, unfiltered – he felt lighter. “Remember when you used to run?”

Mary hesitated a moment. “I still go on runs, what do you mean?”

“No, like,” Wally sat down on a stone bench under the shade of a young tree, “when you did marathons, back when Grammy first got sick.”

Mary laughed on the other end. “I do remember.”

Wally braced on hand on the edge of the bench behind him, leaning back to look up at the vibrant green leaves as they fluttered in the soft wind. Sunlight flickered through the gaps, dancing between shadows. “Well, remember what you used to tell me about “Hitting The Wall” when you were training?” 

“Yes, of course,” Mary’s voice softened, concern seeping into her tone. “What is this about, honey?”

Wally took in a deep breath and let it out at his own pace. It was the first time in weeks that he could think about this without feeling his chest tightening. It was _easy_. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, lately. I’ve been having trouble, y’know… _running_.” He didn’t need to clarify to know his mother would understand he was talking about his powers. He couldn’t clarify anyway, for fear of being overheard. “I just get to this point that I feel like I can’t go on, like something is literally holding me in place, and then I crash. No matter how hard I push myself, I just can’t break through that wall. And it’s not just in running…” he trailed off. “I just feel like I’m stuck, Mom. So… how did you learn to break through it?”

Mary paused. For a long moment, all Wally could hear was the distant whir of the weed-whacker and the rustle of leaves. If he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he was sitting at the table of his childhood home. “Well, I’m not sure how qualified I am to give you advice on _your_ running,” she began. “But Wally… it's not about physically pushing yourself _harder_ to break through the wall. In short, you _can’t_ break through the wall. The wall is always going to be there. That limit isn't physical. It's all in your head,” Mary explained. “It's about… feeling like you can't go on, and going on anyway. Sometimes…” Mary laughed gently, “sometimes, you just have to say “Fuck it. I don't _know_ if I can do it, but I'm going to do it anyway”.”

Wally had to sit upright just to keep from toppling backward with the force of his laughter. “Wow, Mom,” he grinned once he caught his breath, “I don’t think I’ve _ever_ heard you say Fuck in my entire life.”

“Well, don’t get used to it. And don’t you say it either, young man.”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Wally chuckled. “Thank you, Mom.”

“Anytime, honey.”

Wally did, eventually, make it back inside to finish his lunch. He was still tired, still felt a pull in his chest every time he thought about going home and seeing Dick, but he felt better than he had in weeks – even before his blow out with his partner. With lunch finished, Wally headed back down to his desk in the labs, finishing up reports and helping carry out a few experiments with his superiors, completing an otherwise uneventful day.

At the end of his shift, after running his report through a grammar checking program about seven times, he printed it all off, stuck it in an envelope, and tucked it into his messenger bag. Wally always passed by Dr. Lee’s office on his way out, and tended to give her his papers in person rather than going through the hassle of the mail sorting system – that is, when he actually finished his reports on time. Knocking lightly on her office door, Wally walked inside to find the woman chewing on the cap end of a dry erase marker, looking about two seconds from tearing a white board full of equations off her wall.

“You’ve gotta carry the two,” Wally commented with a teasing smirk as he entered.

Dr. Lee didn’t even look away from the board, grinning around the end of her marker. “You’re fired, Mr. West.”

“Damn, fourth time this month,” Wally laughed as he fished the envelope out of his bag. “I’ve got my report on the info we got from the Hadron Collider here for you.”

Finally giving up on the equation for the time being, Dr. Lee sighed and stuck the marker into the breast pocket of her lab coat. “Leave it on my desk,” she said. Her eyes brightened a second later. “Oh, before I forget,” she began as she rounded the desk to open on of the bottom draws. Reaching down, she plucked out a pair of red goggles and tossed them to her intern. “You forgot these at the track last week.”

Wally caught the goggled with ease, his expression faultering as he quickly stuffed them into his bag. “Thanks. Hadn’t even noticed I left them.”

“You know, we still haven’t talked about setting up another session for your training,” Dr. Lee pointed out.

Wally couldn’t meet her eyes, fidgeting with the strap of his bag. “Uh- yeah, it’s… sorta up in the air right now.

“Alright,” Dr. Lee struggled, obviously not catching onto the subtle shift in Wally’s mood. “Let me know if I can do anything to help. I do want to continue monitoring your powers at the very least, but that’s an entirely different beast. We can book that in next weekend.”

“Yeah,” Wally nodded, shaking off the melancholy that had nearly smothered him – or trying to, at least. “That works.”

Wally clocked out. As he walked passed the bus stop outside the lab, he thought idly about the bus pass sitting unused in his wallet. Maybe he should just return it, to be honest, he never took the bus anyway. The walk from the lab to his apartment across the river in Bludhaven was a well memorized path, and just about the only thing that gave him peace of mind lately. Wally decided, after a few blocks, to keep the pass anyway. He’d need it whenever this streak of gorgeous weather let up and they got dumped on by a rain storm. For now though, the sky was clear, the air was warm, and the sun dipping over the western boroughs of the city, its reflection glistening in the water.

He was going to talk to Dick when he got home. They’d gone long enough without talking about their problem, and Wally’d had enough of the tense silences and forced conversation. They’d talk it through, and they might argue again, but damn it, they were going to finish it this time. Wally knew he was ready to get back out on the field – not being out there was making him more anxious than anything, and he needed Dick to understand that. Maybe it was a vain hope that Dick would listen, but it was a hope that Wally held onto regardless. He’d pick up some Krispy Kreme donuts on his way home to ease his way into the conversation. Wally may not always have the best tact in conversations like these, but he did know how to get on Dick’s good side. 

That was the only reason Wally altered his course that evening. He only strayed from his regular path about two blocks to get at the donut shop, didn’t think anything of it.                                                                                                                

Gun shots and shattering glass echoing off the surrounding buildings. Wally stopped dead in his tracks, head whipping around for the source of the sound. Just down another block, the remnants of a broken window spilled out onto the sidewalk, punctuated by shouting voices. Every pedestrian in the vicinity immediately scattered, running for cover in every direction. Two more gun shots blast out the open window, smashing into the brick wall on the other side of the street. It was a convenience store, from what Wally could see at that distance. A convenience store was being held up just a block away from him – and he could do something about it.

Wally cursed under his breath, dashing into a nearby alley and pressing himself up against the wall. Rooting violently through his bag, Wally pulled out his goggles, weighing them in his hand for a moment. He had the goggles, and the lightweight hoodie he was wearing. Not exactly a mask and costume, but it would do for now. Strapping the goggles over his eyes, Wally then pulled the hood up over his face, tugging on the strings to hide as much of his face as he could without impeding his vision. Wally stuffed his messenger bag behind a stack of wooden pallets at the far end of the alley, took in a steadying breath, and ran.

He felt the push back almost immediately. Time slowed down around him, a force from within his own body lashing out and attacking him. Wally felt his chest seize, a pain so visceral he swore it was curling around his ribcage and constricting the air in his collapsing lungs. As he raced toward the convenience store, he caught sight of a man in a black ski mask, flash frozen in time with his finger tightened on the trigger of a shotgun. Fire exploded from the end of the barrel, a spray of small pellets blasting out toward the cowering shop owner. He didn’t know if he going to make it in time. Wally gritted his teeth. He kept running anyway.

_Fuck it._

The pain crescendoed, nearly bringing Wally tripping to his knees, but he pushed on. He just focused on moving, just kept going, until he was bursting through the shattered window and into the store. Wally’s focused zeroed in on the spray of bullets hurdling in slow motion toward the victim. He didn’t think fast. Didn’t think at all. Wally moved on instinct, ripping the metal sheet off the nearest shelf. The stacks of bread and instant ramen remained still in mid-air. Running forward with the sheet gripped in both hands, Wally slammed it down through the air, hitting the bullets off course.

Time sped up. With defeaning bangs, the bullets lodged harmlessly into the adjacent wall, not a scratch on the shop keeper to show for it. A beat of stunned silence after the noise and screams and blaring sirens outside hushed the store. Wally felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, followed by nearly every follicle on his skin as he watched the trail of lightening he’d left in his trail dissipate while sparks continued to crackle around his body. Well. That really was new.

A group of hostages huddled in the isle opposite the counter stared at the hooded figure in shocked awe, only to flinch when the second gunman cocked his shotgun. The man in front of Wally, holding the gun to the shop keeper, gaped at him in horror. Motivated more by fear than anger, the first gunman aimed his weapon at Wally.

Time slowed again. As the electric pain surged through his chest, Wally surged with it – because he had to. He grabbed the shotgun, ripping it from the hands of the gunman just before the man’s finger could twitch toward the trigger. Flipping the gun in his hold, Wally struck out with the butt end and hit the man across the temple. He didn’t stop to watch him fall. Rushing to the other end of the store, Wally went after the second gunman before he could hurt a hostage. Likewise grabbing the shotgun from the man, Wally threw both weapons as far as he could, letting them crash into the open stockroom door at the back of the room.

Whether it was the action itself extending his chest and causing a flare up, or just bad timing, an agonizing surge threw Wally off his rhythm. He stumbled, crashing into a wire shelf of chips as time caught up with him. On the other side of the store, the first gunman fell in a heap to the ground. Blinding lightning once again followed Wally’s path like the tail of a comet. He hadn’t gotten to the second crook yet, though, and he was reminded of this rather forcefully when he felt a rough hand grabbing the back of his hoodie.

Wally was yanked to his feet, held up only long enough for the man to strike out with his other fist. Once again, instinct took over. Wally didn’t think, moved at a speed that his thought couldn’t catch up to. Wally caught the man’s fist in his palm, using the hold to twist his arm behind him. Sweeping his legs out from beneath him, Wally pushed the man over, pinning him to the cold linoleum floor with his arm twisted at a painful angle as he straddle his back.

A roaring, commanding voice broke through the chaotic cries and murmurings of the hostages as Wally slowed down. “Stay down! I said **stay down!** Don’t move!” Dick shouted just as Wally looked up to find his partner rushing into the convenience store in full Police Uniform and bullet proof vest. Dick had his tasergun drawn, aiming it down at the first gunman, who in his disorientation was trying to put himself up off the ground.

The wailing of sirens outside had grown to an ear splitting volume without Wally noticing. He was only just working through the shock of _Dick_ responding to the attempted robbery, the lingering pain in his body throwing his senses just slightly off-centre. Maybe that was why it took him a moment to realize that Dick was staring at him, at first in confusion, and in slowly dawning recognition. Wally met his gaze, frozen where he pinned the gunman to the ground as three more Policemen rushed into the store.

Dick’s eyes glinted with barely contained fury.

Wally ran out of the store, leaving a trail of lightning in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Donuts aren't going to get you out of this one, Flash Boy. 
> 
> If you'd like to sue for emotional damages, you can contact my lawyer (me) below or through these links. Next one's gonna be a blast! 
> 
> [「TWITTER」](https://twitter.com/novaviis) [「TUMBLR」](https://novaviis.tumblr.com)


	5. I could be your Perfect Disaster (you could be my Ever After)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are. The Grand Finale. 
> 
> Strap in kids, we're going on a Feels Trip. It's gotta get so much worse before it gets better. Gonna be a bumpy ride.

 

He didn’t go home. Not right away, anyway. After running from the shot up convenience store, leaving his partner behind frozen in time with that furious look carved into his face like marble, Wally just kept running. Within a quarter of a second, he’d dashed back into the alley, grabbed his messenger bag, and started off again. He tore through the streets, blowing out lampposts and electricity wires in his wake. Wally ran out of the city, toward the south where the sprawling suburban pavement gave away to rural hills and dirt roads sloping down toward an isolated shore. He ran until he couldn’t run anymore.

Skidding to a stop, Wally kicked up sand in his wake, the kind that felt more like gravel as it flew up in a and pelted against his skin. He sputtered, struggling to shield himself and keep himself on his feet at the same time – and failing spectacularly. Crashing onto his knees at the edge of the tide, Wally felt the water soak into his jeans against his knees. He braced himself on his hands, hunched over as he fought to catch his breath. Adrenaline, lingering chest pain, and bursting energy crackling around his body all left him feeling exhausted. It also left him feeling _thrilled_.

Wally sat back on his legs, pushing his goggles up over his forehead, hood falling back off his head. His hands continued back through his hair, combing through sweat as he looked up at the bright sky above and – he started laughing. Deep and uninhibited, grinning through his fatigue, he laughed out of breath as the water rushed up toward him. It was just him, on this tiny patch of rocky beach. He was probably trespassing on the property of some Gotham Elite’s summer cottage. He didn’t _care_. Wally hadn’t felt this rush in years, and it came at him in one massive release of emotion.

The one repeating thought echoing over and over in his mind was that _he did it_. He ran through the pain until he could ignore the ache, until it was gone. He didn’t let his own fear of failure trip him up. He save those people in that store, and that thought alone hit him like a wave. It was always a weird mix, he remembered from his younger days as a hero, that concoction of slightly self-centered pride that _he_ had been the one to save them, and just honest happiness that the innocents were okay.

Wally fell onto his back, arms and legs star-fished out around him as he continued to just _laugh_ and pant for breath, the rapid beating of his heart for once not triggering any pain at all. There was the ache in his lungs, his muscles, that persistent head rush, but it felt _good_. Staring up at the blue, blue sky through the canopy of branches on that wooded beach, Wally soaked in this feeling for all it was worth.

But when he closed his eyes, all he saw was Dick’s face. Dick was a master of schooling his expressions, never gave anything away, but that _look_ was still burning into Wally. Dick was more than enraged. One look, and Wally still felt like he was being fileted from the inside out.

In that moment, Wally made up his mind. Dick was going to be pissed, he was going to rip him apart for this, but this time, Wally wasn’t backing down. He loved Dick, but he wasn’t going to let this go.

Rolling over, Wally pushed himself upright and dusted thick clumps of stone and stand from his tide dampened jeans. He stretched his legs, holding his foot behind him and giving a light pull before switching. With a quick crack of his shoulders, Wally pulled down his goggles, shifted his stance, and ran.

Within a matter of minutes, Wally was arriving at Star Labs. Despite his volatile mixture of excitement and nerves, he did actually have the frame of mind not to just run straight inside. Wouldn’t exactly be subtle. Rounding the lab’s grounds, he stopped in a secluded back alley, the loading zone for trucks bringing in equipment and materials. The maintenance staff would have gone home hours ago, and to Wally’s expectations, the loading dock was entirely empty. Taking care that he was out of view of any cameras, Wally ducked behind a stack of crates and tore off his goggles, stuffing them away in his bag. For good measure, he slipped his sweater over his head and tucked it away as well. Sneaking his way between creates and idle trucks, Wally used his Lab ID badge to open a back door and slip inside.

The Lab, much like the loading dock, was pretty much empty. As Wally navigated the pristine halls, he peered into each lab room to find them all devoid of mad scientists and struggling interns. It wasn’t entirely abandoned, evidence to the sounds of walking and distant voices through the walls, but that was normal. Probably a few late shifts and overnighters looking to get their projects done. Feigning nonchalance, and hoping that his red and sweaty face wouldn’t give him away should he be spotted, Wally made his way toward Dr. Lee’s office.

Her door was locked. Wally groaned with his hand still on the door knob, knocking a few times in a vain hope that maybe she’d just locked it without realizing and she was still inside. When that didn’t elicited a response, he pressed his ear to the door. Silence. Fucking perfect. With another pathetic groan, Wally pushed his forehead against the door in despair.

His theatrics didn’t go unnoticed.

“What are you doing back here at this hour, Mr. West?”

Wally started, spinning around and leaning back against the door only to find Dr. Ramsay approaching him from down the hall with a clipboard in hand. His customary scowl was firmly in place, framed by that well-groomed beard. His eyes narrowed from behind wire-rimmed glasses. Wally recovered, or at least tried to, with a sheepish smile. “What’s up, Doc?”

Dr. Ramsay only raised a grey brow in response.

Wally backpedaled. “I was just looking for Dr. Lee,” he explained.

“She went home.”

“Yeah, figured that one out,” Wally sighed as he pushed himself off the door to stand upright. “Listen, you know that the Lab has been working on my new, uh…” he paused, “uniform. Any chance you know if it’s ready?”

Dr. Ramsay tucked his clipboard under his arm. “Why?”

Biting back the tempered response that threatened to boil up his throat, Wally breathed out through his nose. “I just… I need it.”

In all honesty, Wally fully expected to be rejected. He knew he wasn’t exactly Dr. Ramsay’s favourite intern. The man had never overtly liked him. What he didn’t expect was for Dr. Ramsay to reach into the pocket of his lab coat, pulling out his smartphone. Wally waited in confused silence, as the scientist thumbed over the screen before finally turning it toward him. “Am I correct to assume that this has something to do with _this_?” he asked.

Wally took the phone. A video of footage taken from the robbed convenience store’s security cameras played at the center of a news article, headlined “New Speedster In Town”. Wally watched, his own eyes struggling to keep up as he blasted into the store in static bursts. The light from his energy trails nearly blinded the camera, like flash photography, every time he moved. It looped, five seconds in total, as a “hooded figure” took down the two armed robbers. Below the video, stuck inbetween the text of the article, was a snapshot of his face, or at least what could be seen of it. The hood covered his hair and shadowed his features, the round goggles masking his eyes and obscuring his identity. The article itself was already viral. Wally couldn’t find anything to say. Looking up at the elder scientist, he nodded resolutely.

Dr. Ramsay, after a moment’s deliberation, nodded back. He took his phone, replacing it in his pocket before turning and walking down the opposite hall. “Follow me.”

Wally followed without question. Dr. Ramsay lead him down several twisting corridors that Wally eventually recognized as an alternate path to the test track. The superior scientist flashed his badge at a scanner on the wall next to a restricted elevator, the doors sliding away to allow them inside.  The man selected a floor just above the level of the test track, an area of the lab that he hadn’t been to yet. When the elevator doors opened again, they revealed a single room, walls lined with equipment Wally had never seen before, and a few rows of computer desks. On the far end, large windows made up the walls, overlooking what Wally could see of the text track below. Dr. Ramsay led him to the adjacent wall, where, after pushing in a series of codes, the wall itself lifted away to reveal the suit Wally had designed.

The suit was held up on a mannequin of Wally’s build. Liberties had been taken from his original concept for function, but it was all together better than he could have imagined. It was real. The suit was crimson, lined with thin accents of silver. A deeper red made up the legs, his gauntlets, and patches on either side of his torso and underarms.

Wally stepped up to the glass, his image mirroring perfectly into the suit. He took in a deep breath and held it as he watched his face reflect into the mask.

“You know, your partner put a hold on development for the suit,” Dr. Ramsay commented as he watched Wally. “We’d already finished creating it, but it hasn’t been through the proper testing yet.”

Wally’s jaw tightened. “He did, did he?” Shaking off the lingering sting that Dick would go behind his back like this, Wally flashed a smile at the elder scientist. “Hey, no better test subject than me, right?”

Dr. Ramsay’s expression didn’t change. “Dr. Lee has strict orders that you are not to resume your work as a Hero without her clearance.”

Finally, Wally stepped away from the glass, tearing his eyes away from his reflection. “Listen, Doctor…” he began, choosing his words with care, “I know this is all supposed to be for me. For my benefit. To protect me, to make sure I’m ready, but… I can never actually prove that I _am_ ready until I get out there. I’ll be waiting forever if it’s up to them. Dr. Lee, Dick, even Barry – I don’t _need_ their permission or approval. I know I’m ready. That’s enough.”

Unsurprisingly, Dr. Ramsay didn’t react to Wally’s little speech. Whether he was unmoved, or just stoic as ever, Wally couldn’t get a reading on him until the scientist suddenly turned from Wally and started punching in codes onto the keypad. Wally’s shoulders deflated, knowing without a doubt in that moment that the elder man was locking up his suit. So, it was an honest shock, when the glass around the suit lifted away with a mechanic hiss. Wally looked between the mannequin and his superior, before reaching out with reverent fingers to touch the synthetic fabric for the first time.

“My niece was in Paris,” was all Dr. Ramsay said. “During the Reach Invasion.”

Wally looked back at Dr. Ramsay. That said enough. He nodded.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

When Wally got home, the lights were off again, but the setting sun was cutting up the blue darkness of the apartment with beams of orange light. They sliced through the dark, falling on the walls, over the furniture, with an almost harsh intensity. Wally stepped out of his shoes hurriedly, though he kept his bag strapped over his shoulder. He had his sweater tucked under his arm, along with a few books and loose papers that he’d taken out to make room for new contents. Wally set them down on the nearby table. Dimmed through the walls of the bedroom, Wally could hear Dick getting changed – suiting up for patrol, probably.

He steeled himself. They weren’t going to get past this without another argument. Wally didn’t want to argue with Dick, he hated arguing with him, but they needed to have this out. The bedroom door opened before Wally could take another step into the apartment. As the door swung open, golden light burst from the bedroom window and fell directly onto Wally, smearing onto the wall behind him. Dick stood in the doorway, blocking the glare of the sun, shadows falling on his face as he glowered at Wally in full uniform, mask clenched in his fist.

Wally took one step forward. He swallowed past the thickness in his throat, the tight and all-too-familiar coil of heat starting a slow burn in his chest. He inhaled slowly, feeling the air cool him down as he reminded himself that being anxious didn’t meant he was going into an anxiety attack. He was fine, he just needed to get this out. “Dick, we need to talk,” he said, the strength and certainty in his voice surprising him.

Dick breathed harshly out his nose. For a long moment, Wally wasn’t sure what to expect from his partner. He’d seen Dick angry before. God knew they’d had their fair share of shouting matches in the past, but – this was a new kind of anger. Unfamiliar. Dick turned, walking past Wally toward the living room. “Not now,” he grunted.

“No,” Wally reached out, grabbing Dick’s shoulder and holding him in place. “Now.”

Dick’s shoulders tensed. With a harsh pull of his shoulder, he yanked himself free and faced his partner. “You really want to do this now? Fine,” he hissed. “Wally, I cannot fucking _believe_ you would go behind my back like this.”

“Oh, _please_ , don’t be such a hypocrite!” Wally fumed. “ _You_ went behind my back to tell the Lab to stop developing my suit! Did you seriously think I wouldn’t find out? I _work_ there, Dick.”

Dick averted his gaze, turning his glare out the window at the burning sky. “I already told you. It’s my job to clear you for active duty,” he veered the conversation, something that didn’t go unnoticed by Wally. “And you’re not clear. Now this incident is all over the news. Someone could have gotten hurt, Wally. You could have gotten hurt because you won’t _listen_ to me!”

 “What the hell was I supposed to do?” Wally snapped. He moved in front of Dick, forcing his partner to look him in the eyes.  “I was _there,_ Dick. I didn’t go looking for trouble, I was _there_ and I had to go something! I knew I could have gotten hurt, but that didn’t matter. That’s part of the job, you know that,” he pressed.

Dick angled his body to step around Wally, their shoulders brushing in passing. “It’s not the same,” he said.

“Bullshit!” Wally snarled as he walked after his partner. “Dick, I’m not new to this. I know what the risks are just as much as you do.” Dick stopped in front of him, back turned and tense. The glow of the sun lined the edges of his hair, the smooth contours of his shoulders. Wally continued, softening his voice as he took tentative steps toward him. “How do you think I feel, watching you go out and risk your life every other night? Not knowing if you’re coming home from patrol? Watching you get hurt on _live TV_ and not being able to do anything about it? How would you feel if you were in my shoes, Dick?”

Dick shook his head. “None of that _matter_ s, Wally. You’re not ready to go back out,” he seethed. Wally couldn’t see his fact, but he could see the way his head dipped a little lower and the muscles in his back tensed. “Why can’t you just – just _trust_ me on this and leave it alone?”

That was an unfair question, and they both knew it. Dick only ever resorted to arguments like that when he knew he was losing. Wally flipped it right back on him. “Why can’t _you_ trust me when I say I’m ready?”

Dick finally turned back to him, spinning sharply on his heal with his arms raised in exasperation. “Wally you haven’t won a single spar! Training has been a fucking train wreck. You freeze up, and you’re in so much pain when you run that you crash! Does that sound like ‘ready’ to you?”

Wally swallowed a curse, pushing his hand back through his hair. “Listen, I haven’t been the best in training, I know, but - it’s because I’ve been distracted. I’ve been _scared,_ Dick. I was holding back and getting into my head too much, but I really think I’ve started to work through that. Being cooped up, feeling useless, unable to _do_ anything about it is what makes it worse!”

“Then we’ll give it some time and try again in a few months, like I said before,” the vigilante insisted.

“Dick, you saw me in the convenience store!” Wally pleaded. “I didn’t freeze up. What do a few stupid tests matter when I know for a fact that I’m capable of fighting again?”

Dick groaned, rubbing his palm over his forehead. “That was one time, Wally. We can’t risk it being a fluke, or luck. We’re not leaving this to _chance_. In a few months, if you can prove to me that you’re ready with the proper tests, we’ll talk about it again.”

“So what, it’s your way or no way at all?” Wally’s eyes narrowed.

With that remark, Dick dropped his hand. He stood up straighter, chin high and proud, and his stance all-together self-righteous and infuriating. “If that’s what it takes, then yes.”

Wally shook his head. “You are unbelievable.”

Dick remained persistent, but with every passing second, Wally could see his resolve crumbling. “Look, I tried to be supportive when you said you wanted to come out of retirement. I did everything possible to help. I got it all set up, tried to get you trained and ready to get back out on the field, but it’s just – _it’s not going to happen, okay?!”_

And just like that, they both stopped. The rising tension in the air finally collapsed, like the smoke column of an erupting volcano. Everything left in its wake was smothered, an almost eerie quiet after the deafening roar. Wally opened his mouth, but took a few moments to actually force sound out. “What the hell do you mean?”

Dick realized his mistake, but he realized it too late. That marble expression of anger dissolved into wide eyes and gaping lips. In an almost panicked movement, Dick shook his head and fixed his mask to his face. He turned away, hurrying toward the window and pushing it open. “I don’t have time for this,” he mumbled as he crawled out onto the fire escape.

Wally rushed after him, unwilling to leave this unfinished. “Dick, don’t do this again.”

Dick didn’t look back, didn’t even pause a moment before leaping off the rail of the fire escape. Once again, he shot his grappling hook in the free fall and swung up toward the heights of Bludhaven. Wally braced his hands on the windowsill, watching his partner grow smaller and smaller against the hazy orange dusk. His hands clenched. He wasn’t going to let this happen again. He wasn’t going to sit through another week of awkward silences and forced conversation. He wasn’t going to wait months for another chance to get on the field again, only for Dick to put it off _again_.

Wally was going to meet Dick on even ground.

Engaging his speed, Wally ripped his bag off his shoulder. In what would look like a blur of impossibly fast movement to anyone else, he changed out of his clothes and into his new uniform for the first time before racing out the window, up the fire escape ladder, and to the roof of the apartment building. The fabric and padding of the suit, the friction resistant material and form fitting shape felt more natural than even he remembered. Wally ran to the far side of the building, and took a moment to slow down and brace himself in a running stance. He exhaled. Sparks of electricity crackled around his body. In a bolt of lightning, Wally took off across the roof, building up enough momentum to jump to the next rooftop.

The pain was only a phantom, a voice telling him that he was going to fall as he soared through open air, hundreds of feet above the ground. It was the fatigue he felt in his muscles that made him want to stop. It was the lingering fear, the coil tightening around his heart with every reminder of the hell-scape he’d been trapped in for two years. But all it was, was pain. Wally kept running.

It didn’t take him long to find Dick. Barely a minute had passed, and he’d kept going in the same direction that he took off in. Wally raced between rooftops until he spotted his partner, still in time as he braced for a landing. Circling the surround buildings, Wally jumped onto the same roof to cut Dick off. It was the summit of some office building, with only the protruding stairwell, some benches covered in pigeon droppings, and a few trashcan full of cigarette butts and sandwich wrappers. Night was still a while away, but the orange sky had faded to amber light burning at the edges of passing clouds as the sky faded to violet. Wally landed in a crouch, sliding a forward until he came to a stop.

He and Dick stood in sync, slowly rising to full height as they stood opposite each other; Nightwing and the Flash, staring back at each other through their masks. Ironically, Wally felt it was the first time since this disaster began that they weren’t putting up a front.

Dick’s eyes narrowed, speaking through gritted teeth. “Wal–”

“You _never_ wanted me to become a Hero again, did you?” Wally seethed before Dick could finish. He stomped forward, pointing an accusing finger at his partner, all that bottled up anger finally spilling out. “All that “training”, it was all just to give you an excuse to keep me from coming out of retirement!”

“That’s insane! You know I was just—”

“Just what?” Wally continued his tirade. “Doing what’s best for me? How can you know what’s best for me when you won’t fucking _listen to me_?”

Dick’s composure began to crumble. “I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t need your _permission_ to do what I want with my life, Dick. You can’t just hang this bullshit authority over my head!”

 “Wally, would you just shut up and—”

“Do you really think I’m that inept? We fought alongside each other for years, you _know_ I’m just as capable as you are!”

“Just listen, I—”

“You’re supposed to be the _one_ person who’s on my side!”

Dick finally burst. Grabbing Wally by the shoulders, he held him in a vice grip. “You were **dead,** Wally! Do you not **_fucking_** understand that?!”

Wally remembered, if only vaguely at the moment, the last time Dick said this. In a similar setting, the rooftop of Wayne Manor, Dick had been on the verge of breaking down trying to make him understand what his “death” had meant, if only without the ferocity in his voice. Wally had realized over the months since his return that he may never truly comprehend what Dick had gone through. His own imagination stalled every time he tried to put himself in his partner’s place, rejecting a world without Dick in it. However, standing in the heights of Bludhaven with the echo of Dick’s shout still ringing in his ears, he felt he might finally have at least a better understanding. It wasn’t about what life had been like with his best friend and lover eviscerated out of thin air. It was how much it had effected Dick.

Wally also remembered Dick saying that night that he had changed; that he wasn’t the same person that Wally had known. For the first time, Wally saw that person. And that person was _scared_.

Dick swallowed what sounded suspiciously like a sob. He dropped his hands from Wally’s shoulder, fighting for control over himself. “You weren’t just gone. You didn’t just disappear. You were vaporized out of thin fucking air while you were on the field, and I couldn’t do anything. You were dead, I was _never_ going to see you again,” Dick sucked in an uneven breath through his teeth. “You had a grave with an empty casket, you had a _funeral_ , and a memorial at the Watchtower that I couldn’t even stand to look at. You didn’t _exist_ anymore, and for all I knew, you never would again.”

Wally deflated, his dissipating anger leaving him emotionally exhausted. “Dick… is it really me that's not ready, or is it you?”

Finally, his words struck a chord with Dick. Wally watched as his eyes widened slightly behind his mask, the question hitting him like a swift punch to the gut. Dick’s head dropped, his shoulders shaking and his breath coming more and more uneven. Then, in one final explosion, Dick spun around with a shout and lashed out, kicking over a nearby trashcan. Its contents spilled out onto the concrete as the tin can bounced with loud metallic bangs across the rooftop.

Wally flinched. Taking a cautious step forward, he reached out toward his partner’s shoulder. “Dick…”

In an instant, Dick was spinning around and throwing himself at Wally. Face buried against his neck, Dick wrapped his arms around him, clinging to his shoulders like Wally was the only thing keeping him sane. Wally relaxed after a startled moment, arms circling Dick to hold him close. He rubbed his palm in circles over his back, just as Dick had done to calm him down so many times.

“Hey, hey, come on,” Wally hushed him, whispering against Dick’s temple. “It’s okay. I’m here now, it’s okay, baby.”

Dick wasn’t exactly sobbing. He was barely crying, no tears were slipping down the edges of his mask. He was just – upset, shaking with it, struggling to catch his breath. Wally simply held him, shifting gently back and forth on his feet, and that was all he needed. Minutes of quiet whispers passed before Dick found his voice again. “I _did_ try to support you in coming out of retirement,” he said, hoarse voice muffled against Wally’s neck. “But the last time you “came out of retirement” you died, and I had to face living the rest of my life without you knowing that I _let you go_.”

Their last kiss in the Watchtower, clumsy and rushed, flashed through Wally’s memory. He remembered Dick grabbing him before he could run off to the Arctic, pulling him in. He remembered Dick’s hand dropping from his bicep, fingertips lingering a millisecond longer. He remembered Dick letting him go to the Arctic. As the memory faded, Wally wondered how many nights of sleep Dick had lost over that simple moment.

 “Dick… I know you don’t want to hear this,” he began slowly as he pulled back enough to cup a hand against his partner’s jaw. “But you have to let me go again.”

Dick sighed slowly, closing his eyes as his hand came up to the back of Wally’s neck. He guided their foreheads together, noses just barely brushing, every breath mingling in the space between their lips. Dick’s eyes may have been closed, but Wally’s were wide open, watching every hint of expression on Dick’s face as he fought internally with himself. Finally, Dick nodded. He opened his mouth with a deep breath to speak.

A light beeping noise interrupted him. Dick frowned, looking behind Wally at the hand resting on the back of his head. He looked like he might ignore it for a moment before another, louder series of beeps sounded. Dick groaned, pulling his hand back to hold it out straight and slightly off center so it wouldn’t get between them. The holographic interface flickered to life from his glove.

Wally turned his head but didn’t let go of Dick, arms tightening slightly around his waist. “What is it?” he asked.

Dick’s frown deepened. “Remember that Lovecraftian Horror Monster?”

“Yeah.”

“Turns out he was just a baby. Looks like his Mom is on a rampage in San Diego,” Dick muttered before dismissing the hologram and turning back to his partner. “They can handle it without me.”

“It seemed pretty important,” Wally replied with a slow smile. “Looked like they could use all the help they could get.” When Dick hesitated, averting his gaze to the ground, Wally ducked his head down to catch his eyes. “Dick, listen,” he said, “this might sound harsh, but I’m going out there with or without your permission…” Wally paused with a tender smile, “but I’d kinda like you on my side when I do.”

Dick sighed. “We’d have to take the Zeta Tube, Wally.”

Wally’s smiled widened. “You said We.”

“ _Wally_.”

“I can handle it,” Wally said seriously. “I _will_ handle it.”

Though Wally could still see the conflict in Dick’s eyes, it wasn’t making it past the surface. Dick attempted a smile of his own as he wound his free arm around Wally again. “So? That’s it?”

“Hey,” Wally shrugged, smile returning, “if you’re going—”

Dick silenced him, pulling Wally in and crushing their lips together in a smoldering kiss. Wally readily gave in.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

The one positive to this situation was the San Diego still hadn’t rebuilt from the last attack. So, it wasn’t as if newly reconstructed buildings were getting torn down again. It was likely saving the recovery more money. However, Kaldur’ahm was certain that the citizens of San Diego didn’t see it through a very positive lens. Water-bearers guiding him up on a tidal wave, Kaldur removed himself from the fray just enough to get a good look on the situation below. He landed on the rooftop of a lower building, shadowed by the gargantuan body of the lizard monster.

 “ _Alpha Squad_ ,” Kaldur projected through the psychic link connecting his team. “ _Report_.”

“ _We’ve managed to clear out the southern blocks_ ,” Tim answered. He and the rest of Alpha, consisting of Mal, Virgil, and Cassie, were acting as a perimeter to minimize damage, the sort of backup they’d been severly lacking the last time they fought a creature like this. “ _We’re moving East_.”

“ _Beta_?” Kaldur continued.

“ _Can’t tell if we’re distracting it or just making it angrier_ ,” Karen replied, “ _but we’re on it_.”

Beta Squad was comprised of Zatanna, Jaime, Bart, and Karen. This left the original team members, or at least those present, to take care of the beast head on. With the most experience in dealing with the reptilian creature, and generally the most experienced Heroes on the team, they were the obvious choice; though Kaldur had hoped they would have been doing better at this point.

A fifty ton tail blocked out the sun, the only warning Kaldur got as it came crashing down toward him. He prepared his water-bearers, but didn’t have the chance to attempt defending himself before Conner leapt up from the ground and punched the offending appendage away. It only managed to knock it over one building, but it was enough to save the distracted leader. Conner landed next to Kaldur, coughing through the dust and debris. Once recovered, he stood upright. “The Green Lanterns are on the way, last I heard,” he reported. “Any word from Nightwing?”

Kaldur shook his head, taking a spare glance down at the inactive communicator attached to his belt. “Nothing yet,” he answered. “He should be here by now.”

Conner grunted. No time for small talk. The Kryptonian pushed off the group and soared toward the beast. It was, perhaps, in the vain hope that if he tried just punching it in the head _again_ , this time he wouldn’t get swatted out of thin air. His hope was in vain. Kaldur cringed as he watched Conner break through the window of a high rise office building.

“ _Kaldur, we’ve got incoming_ ,” M’gann reported.

Kaldur looked up to the sky, scanning the bright blue until he saw her silhouette above the city. “ _What is it_?”

“ _I don’t know_ ,” M’gann’s voice was slightly uneasy. “ _But it’s fast. It looks like a speed—”_

Before M’gann could further explain, the incoming anomaly made itself known, racing through the streets and straight toward the monster. Just as the creature had been preparing to aim a clawed swipe at Mal and Tim, the unknown speedster ran up the side of the beast and over its opposite arm, jumping off onto the nearest rooftop. The creature roared in frustration, distracted from the two vigilantes below as it tried to go after its assailant.

Kaldur only made the natural assumption. “ _Kid_ ,” he barked through the mind link, “ _why aren’t you in your position?_ ” He couldn’t very well scold the boy for saving his teammates, but everyone had their place in this mission, and-

“ _Um, I am in position, Boss_ ,” Bart replied. “ _That’s not me_.”

Kaldur, once again, wasn’t given the chance to react. A dark figure swung down toward him from a higher building, rolling into their landing before running toward him. Dick stopped beside his Co-Leader, flashing a somewhat sheepish grin. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Where have you been?” Kaldur asked, in a delicate balance of genuine concern and annoyance.

Dick shrugged, gesturing down to the streaks of lightning running circles around the creature. “I was bringing in reinforcements.”

An explosion forced a deafening screech from the monster as fire scorched its face. On the ground and further down the street, Artemis had taken aim at the creature and was loading another arrow from her quiver. With a steel gaze, she loosed her arrow, only to watch in horror as an ill-timed swipe of the beast’s tail set the arrow bounding straight back at her. Artemis stood from her crouch, sprinting as fast as she could, as the arrow hit the ground behind her. Though the fire didn’t reach her, the shockwave did, throwing her into the air. Zatanna’s voice cried through the mind link and out loud, echoing from the opposite side of the creature, calling Artemis’ name. Artemis braced herself for impact on the concrete – only to find herself caught in a pair of arms seconds before hitting the ground.

Artemis looked up in shock, ponytail wiping in the wind at her side. Wally only grinned back at her. “Need a lift?” he smirked.

In that moment, Artemis didn’t know why or how Wally was there. To be honest, she didn’t really give a fuck. All she knew was that she had probably never been happier to see him (resurrection excluded). “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” she grinned back.

“Of course not!” Wally laughed. “I still never got to rub in Paris!”

 Carrying Artemis, Wally ran around the back of the creature, aiming now to not attract attention to them. Running up the side of a low building, he set her down just as Zatanna flew up to them. Zatanna flung herself at Artemis, frantically checking her over to make sure she was okay. Only once she had the firm reassurance from her partner that she was alright did Zatanna turn her affection to Wally, hugging him with a “Good to have you back”.

From her vantage point above the city, M’gann spotted the exchange. Even from that distance and with the change of costume, she recognized that brilliant red hair. “ _It’s Wally!_ ” she announced through the link.

“Miss M!” Wally called up to her from below. “Hook me up!”

Almost unable to contain her giddy excitement, M’gann’s eyes flashed green, telepathically linking him to the rest of the team. Immediately, Wally’s head was flooded with the surprised and thrilled voices of his teammates, both former and new. He braced his hand against his head, a little overwhelmed by feeling “ _Whoa_ ,” Wally chuckled through the link. “ _Totally forgot how weird this feels_.”

“ _Alright, guys. Guys! We get it, we’re all excited_ ,” Dick interrupted the chaotic mental chatter, unable to keep the amusement from his own ‘voice’. “ _Focus. I’ve got the devices that we used to K.O. the last creature, but this one’s a lot bigger. We’re going to need at least four. Jaime, Karen, Virgil, and Wally, you’re up. We’ll get the devices to you. You’ll need to get on it’s back and plant it as close to the base of its skull as you can. Everyone else, keep running distractions and making sure we’re clear of civilians. Got it?_ ”

A chorus of affirmations answered back to him. Dick passed two of the devices off to Kaldur, the two leaders taking off to deliver them with a quick nod to each other. Kaldur stopped only to place his hand on Dick’s shoulder with a slight smile before summoning a column of water to carry him down from the rooftop.

Dick shot his grappling gun onto the nearest light post, using it to swing down into a smooth landing on the street. The creature had moved further up a block, every stomp of its enormous feet shaking the ground like an earth quake. Wally ran down from his place with Artemis and Zatanna, skidding to a stop in front of Dick just as he was recalling the grappling hook and replacing it in his belt. Dick glanced back at the creature, confirming that they had a moment of respite as it moved further away, before reaching out to hold Wally’s shoulders. “How are you doing?” he checked in. Behind them, the creature shrieked as Virgil planted his device in its skin.

Wally shrugged, only slightly out of breath. “Doing good,” he replied, with a slow grin. "Feelin' the Aster."

Dick's first reaction, of course, was to shove at Wally's shoulders, trying to reign in his laughter. "Shut up," he shook his head. "Can we take this seriously, please?"

Wally laughed, stumbling back a bit before righting himself as he calmed down. Taking the Zeta Tube here hadn’t been easy. Wally had been anxious about using it before they’d even arrived, though resolute that he was going to go through with it anyway. Dick had gone first again, ready at the other end for when Wally came out. He was nowhere near as bad as the incident as the Watchtower when he reappeared on the other side, stumbling out of the photo booth façade. Still, he’d taken a few minutes with Dick just catching his breath, reassuring himself that he made it through. The disorienting fact that they’d left Bludhaven on the verge of nightfall and stepped out into San Diego in midday didn’t help ground his senses, but he did it. That in itself was a small victory, and he was more than happy to take it. All that was left was a lingering feeling of unease when he thought of the experience. Wally rolled his shoulders back. “Just want to keep moving,” he told his partner honestly.

Dick held him in his gaze for a second longer just to be sure. Reaching into a pouch on his utility belt, he pulled out a compact device, a series of wires and circuit boards attached to a sharp metal spike. Dick placed it in Wally’s hand with a sincere gaze. “Hey,” Dick smiled. “Be safe. Kick ass.”

Wally beamed, taking the device in one hand as he offered his fist out in the other. Dick rolled his eyes from behind his mask, but nonetheless tapped his fist against Wally’s. The speedster retracted his hand to point his fingers against his forehead in a mock salute. “Always, babe,” he said.

And just like that, he was off. Dick could the rush of air around him with Wally’s departure, and swore he took his breath with him. Nervous as he was about all of this, he couldn’t help admiring the sight of Wally being out on the field again, an entirely new man. The trails of lightning he left in his wake streaked across the city, glimmering in the broad daylight. His lover was a force of nature. Now, enough staring. Back to work. Dick shot his grappling hook onto the highest perch he could reach and took off across the city.

Wally, meanwhile, was heading straight for the great “Spaghetti Monster”. Dodging between flailing tails, he headed for the only other living thing moving anywhere near his speed. To Wally’s own surprise, he found that he had to slow down just to keep pace with the kid. Falling into step beside his young cousin, Wally grinned down at him. “Distraction?”

Bart nodded eagerly. “Hell yeah!”

That established, the two speedsters split off, running in intersecting figure eights to further confused and distract the creature. Dashing between its legs and tails, they stopped only when they crossed paths with each other, long enough to catch the beast’s attention before running off again.

“So, what are we calling you now?” Bart asked as they stopped together. They separated and ran off just in time to avoid a tail smashing into the pavement, and again, they rejoined just in the creature’s peripheral vision. It turned its body to look at them, opening it up to Jaime and Karen both flying up and putting their devices in place. “Red?”

Dodge, split off, run, rejoin.

“Sparky?”

And again.

“I kinda like Sparky.”

Wally, to his growing annoyance and endearment, was reminded of just how much Bart acted like he did at his age. “Just call me Flash.”

The creature swiped at them. They raced between its legs to reappear on its left side. Bart snorted. “Ah, unique, haven’t heard that one before.”

Wally reached out to ruffle Bart’s wild hair. “Thanks, _Kid_ , it’s a family name.”  The creak and groan of steel snapped Wally’s attention back to the creature. With a booming crash, one of its tails batted a Construction Bulldozer into the air and straight towards them. “Look out!” Wally shouted as he shoved Bart out of the way with all his strength. Even at his speed, he barely had enough time to engage his powers and run out of the way. The Bulldozer slammed into the ground, uprooting concrete and flinging Wally down the street.

Wally, by some miracle, managed to flip himself over and tried to land on his feet. His bent knees absorbed most of the shock, but the momentum kept him going, throwing him into a roll on his side. He crashed into the base of a lamppost, back flaring in pain. His ears rang, all sound coming muffled, like his head had been stuffed with cotton. Even the voices of his teammates through the psychic link calling his name sounded distant and distorted, until Dick’s desperate call to him pierced through with a stunning clarity.

 _Get up. Get **up**. _ Wally commanded himself. Rolling onto his stomach, Wally braced himself on his hands and knees, struggled to catch his breath. _Come on_. _Now or never._ Wally was sick of this. He’d had enough of getting knocked down and staying down. Though his legs trembled and his muscles protested, Wally shifted, bracing his feet behind him, hands still on the ground. He reached up, fist still closed around the spike of the device, wiping a smear of blood from the corner of his lip. _Come on_ , he repeated to himself as his head began to clear.

_Go._

Lightning crackled around his body.

**_Go!_ **

Wally took off. He didn’t push himself to go faster, to try harder. The words of his mother echoed in his memory. He just wanted to keep _going_. Running hell-bound toward the beast, Wally fueled himself on raw determination. Whether or not he could do this didn’t matter. He was doing it. Racing up the side of the creature’s tail as it came down toward him, Wally jump from tail to tail, using them as perches to propel himself further up, pausing only to catch the beast’s attention on purpose. Finally, with the beast in a blind rage, he landed on its back, sprinting between the spikes jutting out from its spine. With a roar, he plunged the sharp end of the device into the reptile’s neck, scales cracking around it. 

As Wally stood on top of the beast, slowly rearing back in a pained screech, he could, of course, see most of the city. What was left of the city, at least? From that vantage point, he could see every hero below, every building reduced to rubble. So, in that instance, even Wally didn’t understand how he spotted the black cloaked figure standing at the edge of a high rise nearly a mile away. Out of everything in the city, his eyes honed in on that figure, edges of their cloak caught in mid breeze – until the breeze seemed to catch up with him. The cloaked figure watched him for a moment longer before turning and walking away, disappearing from view. Wally frowned in confusion before reason hit – right. Slowing down. Bad.

The pained screech finally thundered from the creature. Wally latched onto one of the spinal spikes as the beast’s body shook and writhed in pain. Finally, the four circuit boards reacted to one another, creating a square of electricity as they came to life. The creature fought against its oncoming demise, or certainly fought to create as much damage to the surrounding city as it could before it went down. One wild paw lashed out, swiping through the lower floors of a tall building.

A tall building that Dick was currently standing on. With the foundation destroyed, the building began to topple over. Dick scrambled, trying to shoot his grappling hook onto something stable to no success. Wally had engaged his speed before he even realized, letting go of the reptile’s spine as racing against time down its back. Heart in his throat, he kept his eyes trained on Dick, falling among chucks of brick and steel in slow motion. Wally let instinct take over. Running up the stable side of the building, he pushed off, making a desperate grab for Dick. The moment he caught his partner’s forearm, he pulled him in against his body. Wally jumped between the falling concrete slabs, using each as a stepping stone until he made it to the neighboring building. Skidding to a stop, he set Dick on his feet and let time slow down around him, checking him over to make sure he was okay.

Dick, winded by the entire experience, blinked and suddenly found himself safe, staring back at his partner in shock and slow building adoration as he caught his breath. Their Lovecraftian Horror Monster finally toppled, crashing down onto the street below, caught between buildings with little other damage than a large cloud of dust. When the air cleared, Wally pulled Dick into his arms, his face splitting into an honest grin. Dick, in spite of everything, found himself grinning right back at him, bracing his hand on the back of his neck as, for the second time that day, he pressed their foreheads together. Adrenaline coursing wild through their veins, they laughed freely and held onto each other, surrounded by rubble and destruction in gleaming daylight.

Wally couldn’t contain himself. Lifting a fist into the air, he hollered a loud, whooping cheer.

He was back.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Keeping a vague eye on the stop watch in his hands, Dick stood in the centre of the test track at Star Labs. A vortex of wind and lightning rushed around him, the source completely indiscernible from one second to the next. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before.  Through the whirlwind, he could just barely see past the millisecond gaps to the table at the other end of the track, where Dr. Lee, Dr. Ramsay, and Barry Allen observed Wally’s final session. On the table, an analog counter hooked up to the high speed camera attempted to count how many laps Wally had taken.

It had been a week since the attack in San Diego. Wally had been officially reinstated as a Hero. When given the opportunity to join the Justice League as a full-fledged member, he’d looked at Dick and politely declined. Like his partner, he was more than happy to stay with the team they’d founded. So, for the time being at least, everything seemed patched up. Dick and Wally had talked out their issues without dissolving into another shouting match, setting ground rules for their vigilantism. Dick was still scared, he didn’t lie about that during their talk. He was terrified, but he always would be. In the end, he had all the faith in the world in Wally.

The sound of a fire extinguisher blasting off and the smell of smoke drew Dick’s attention from his thoughts. He looked back at the table, watching as Barry covered what used to be the analog counter – it had, apparently, short circuited, unable to keep up with Wally’s speed and subsequently overheating. Over the whir of the wind around him, he could hear Dr. Lee laughing and glancing over the computer monitors.

“It looks like whatever had stabilized his powers in the Speed Force just kept going after reversing the initial damage,” Dr. Lee explained to her colleagues. “It actually made him _faster_. Like when he was a child, it just took a while for his body to full integrate it. The pain must have been psychosomatic. It was very real, but it was more like a lingering trauma from his time in the Speed Force. Never posed any real threat to his body. It’s incredible. Hate to say it, Barry,” she smiled ruefully at her old friend, “but you’re officially no longer the Fastest Man Alive.”

Barry shook his head as he set the fire extinguisher down watching the race track with nothing but pride in his eyes. “Y’know what? I don’t think I mind.”

Dick smiled to himself as he turned back to his stop watch. Five minutes, and Wally had already beat Barry’s top speed. Dick glanced up again – didn’t even have time to be amazing. Without a second’s warning, the lightning and wind stopped, and Wally was in the centre of the track planting a wet, sloppy kiss on his lips. Dick let out a startled noise, muffled against Wally’s mouth. He reciprocated, hands resting against Wally’s biceps as the speedster held him around the waste. Wally pulled back, shot him a grin and a wink, and just like that he was off again. Dick wasn’t sure if he would ever catch his breath around Wally again, but he decided rather quickly that he never wanted to.

 

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

Wally woke up later that night with a gasp. His body jolted, eyes snapping open to moonlight stretching across his bedroom ceiling in soft stripes from the window blinds. The last vestiges of his nightmare drained away, leaving only muted images of chaotic light and sound, and the absence of sensation. His heart raced erratically against his ribcage. This wasn’t a violent nightmare by any means. He wasn’t waking up shouting and panicked as he did some nights, he wasn’t terrified and miserable. It was a rough gasp, a jolt, and that was all.

But it was still a nightmare. Wally held back a pathetic groan, letting go of the tension he hadn’t been aware that he was holding. Sinking back into his pillow, he found himself overcome with tired frustration. He wasn’t cured. He may have made improvements, but the scars left behind by the Speed Force were permanent. He shouldn’t have expected any less. In all likelihood, he’d feel the lasting effects for the rest of his life, even if they dulled down to startling nightmares and moments of all-consuming anxiety.

Dick moaned in his sleep beside him. Without waking, his partner rolled over, rustling the sheets as he threw an arm over Wally’s torso and draped himself half on top of him. Dick nuzzled his head against Wally’s chest, and within moments stilled again. His warmth and grounding weight reminded Wally how to breathe.

Well.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, he had the rest of his life to look forward to.

Wally wrapped his arms around Dick, pulling him closer as he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off again.

 

 .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

 

[Ever After - Marianas Trench](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cts6y-v7hhU)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really not sure what to say here besides thank you. Thank you all so much for your feedback and support. This has definitely become one of my most prized pieces. I owe every bit of that to the motivation you guys gave me.
> 
> I sincerely hope you enjoyed this fic because it was a ride from start to finish. Again, it was only meant to be three chapters long, but this beast took on a mind of its own. It was a fic I needed to write, almost like therapy. I really put my heart and soul and all the chaos that goes with them into this.
> 
> This is nowhere near the end for Watercolour. I have a lot planned, and I mean a lot, so I hope you'll stick with me. 
> 
> As always, you can find me at the links below. Until next time. 
> 
> [「TWITTER」](https://twitter.com/novaviis) [「TUMBLR」](https://novaviis.tumblr.com)


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